


I built your walls around me

by becreativeace (JR_Granger)



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety Attacks, Discrimination, Dissociation, Engineer Erik Lehnsherr, Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mutant Moira MacTaggert, Mutants are Known, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Past Medical Experimentation, Psychologist Charles Xavier, Psychology, Telepathic Bond, Trans Charles Xavier, Transphobia, strained sibling relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:41:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26294326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JR_Granger/pseuds/becreativeace
Summary: Charles Xavier runs the Center for Displaced Mutant Youth in London, England, while his little sister, Raven, runs the Xavier Foundation, both of them working to provide safe and happy environments for mutants, to give them what neither of them had growing up. Doing similar work by providing safe and affordable housing to mutants throughout Western Europe, Erik Lehnsherr and his Brotherhood of Mutants Inc. are interested in working with the Xavier siblings to help more mutants worldwide. Upon their meeting, Erik and Charles grow a close and unyielding bond.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 14
Kudos: 37





	I built your walls around me

**Author's Note:**

> I originally got the idea for this fic from a post I saw on Tumblr at the start of the pandemic about characters meeting on Zoom for work, and then the fic just slowly morphed. It even made me rewrite most of it at some point because it decided it didn't like where it was going. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this labor of love. I really put a lot of myself into Charles this time around.
> 
> Since this does deal with some heavy subjects - gender dysphoria, anxiety, depression, racism, etc. - let me know if you'd like me to add any more tags, trigger warnings, or anything else. Let me know if there's anything that I haven't particularly well, as well.
> 
> Also, this is only the second Cherik fic I've written, so apologies if there's anything horribly out of character. Let me know how I can fix anything!
> 
> Title taken from Sufjan Stevens' "Mystery of Love" because I am weak and super queer.

The weekly reminder goes off that Charles both relishes and dreads. Groaning, he rolls out of bed and stumbles his way into the bathroom. As he preps the syringe, he thinks about the mixed feelings he’s always had about these injections. They’re something he needs in order to be happy with his body and for people to see him how he’s always wanted to see himself, without constantly using his telepathy to alter everyone’s perception of him like he did before he started. The fact that he needs to do this in the first place, however, just reminds him that his very genes are working against him. It’s one of the reasons he decided not to go into genetics, despite his interest in it and despite his father pushing him in that direction – or perhaps because he was pushed in that direction.

Shaking his head at the weekly spiral of his thoughts, Charles injects his testosterone. As he disposes of the needle in the bin, a call starts ringing through on the computer in his study on the ground floor, sound traveling well. Confused as to who could be calling him at eight in the morning on a Saturday, Charles stumbles his way out of the bathroom across from his bedroom on the lower ground floor and upstairs. Without bothering to look at the caller id, he clicks the answer button.

“What in god’s name do you want?” Charles demands through a jaw cracking yawn, forcing his eyes shut and preventing him from seeing whomever it is on the screen. “I’ve yet to have my morning tea, so this had better be good.”

“My apologies, I forgot you were an hour behind me,” an unfamiliar, deep, accented, sexy voice responds, laughter clear in the tone.

Charles freezes, slowly opening his eyes as he becomes aware of the fact that he is still dressed in the threadbare t-shirt and boxers he wears to bed in the warmer months. Once his eyes are completely open, they set on the most gorgeous person Charles has ever seen. Short auburn hair, bright clear eyes of an impossible combination of grey, blue, and green, the sharpest jaw and cheekbones covered in ginger stubble, and a devastating smirk are what register with Charles before he can properly speak.

“Ah,” Charles finally gets out, his voice cracking. “Excuse me a moment.” With that he bolts into his bedroom to quickly throw on some clothes, ignoring the fact that a strange man has called him and focusing on the fact that an unbelievably beautiful man has called him. He pulls on a plaid shirt and some old jeans over his pajamas, combs his fingers through his hair to get it into some semblance of order, and puts on his black, wayfarer-style specs. With that and a deep breath, he calmly makes his way back into his office and sits down in front of his computer, where the man still has a smirk playing across his lips.

“Better?” he asks, his eyes crinkled with laughter.

Biting his lip and then licking it compulsively, Charles clears his throat as he shifts in his seat and runs a hand through his hair. “Yes, it’s just, ah… I’m a bit confused is all.”

The man raises his eyebrows. “About who I am and why I’m calling?”

“Well, ah, yes,” Charles admits, chuckling. “Not that I mind, per se. I’ve definitely had worse wake up calls. I just need to know who’s giving my information away to men I don’t know.” So I can thank them, he doesn’t add.

This makes the man chuckle in return. “I can imagine,” he says. “I was recently speaking with your sister, Raven, and she told me I should give you a call. She seemed to think we’d get on well.”

Simultaneously cursing and thanking his little sister, Charles offers the man a tentative smile. “Well, I tend to get along better with people once I know their name.”

Huffing, the man’s smirk widens into a closed smile. “I’m Erik, Erik Lehnsherr.”

Things line up in Charles’ brain finally, the semi-early hour and the medium of communication slowing it down. “Ah yes, Mister Lehnsherr. Raven did mention you had gotten in contact with the Foundation. I just didn’t expect her to put you in contact with me, considering the Foundation is her baby.

“Still, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Charles Xavier, though I expect you already knew that because of Raven.”

Erik chuckles again. “Oh, believe me, the pleasure is all mine.”

Charles ducks his head to hide his blush as he bites his lip again. “So, what was it that you wanted to speak to me about?”

“Being as involved as both you and your sister are in the mutant community, particularly in Europe and the United States, I’m sure you’re familiar with the work my company has been doing the past few years?” Erik starts off.

How could he not, is the better question. Brotherhood of Mutants, or BoM Inc, first came onto the scene five years ago for the work they did providing housing for low income and insecure mutants in Germany. Since then, they have been nearly singlehandedly working to lower the disproportionately high homeless rates of mutants in Western Europe.

“Mister Lehnsherr --”

“Erik, please,” Erik interrupts.

Smiling, Charles nods. “Of course. I must admit, Erik, I have been a great admirer of your work since your company first started. I’m only surprised it took until now for us to come into contact.”

A funny smirk crosses Erik’s face, though Charles is hard pressed to read the meaning behind it; even after all these years, he’s still absolutely dreadful at reading facial expressions without some sort of psionic feedback.

“Ah yes,” Erik says in a tone that matches his face, “that would be partially my own fault. You see, I wanted to prove that I could do this myself – help my fellow mutants in a way that I was not when I was a child – without the help from someone else. Particularly without the help of someone who is already well-known and connected within the community and has near limitless money and resources.”

“That’s really quite admirable,” Charles compliments. “Raven was tempted to do the same – start from scratch. But then we both decided that we wanted to do some good with this, as you say, ridiculous amount of money that we never really earned, and neither did my parents really. So, Raven uses her portion of the Xavier fortune to run the Foundation and to help fund numerous projects, big and small, all around the world.

“Which is why I’m so glad you’ve finally gotten in contact with her. She’s been wanting to work with you for years, help you expand your business to the rest of Europe and the world. She didn’t want to seem pushy, or make it seem like you couldn’t do that on your own, though.”

On the screen, Erik is nodding along with what Charles is saying. “She explained that all when I spoke with her yesterday.”

“Good,” Charles replies with a smile. “That still doesn’t tell me why you’re talking to me, however.”

Humming, Erik lifts an eyebrow that Charles struggles to read. “You really don’t see where this is going?”

Resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, Charles merely shifts to rest an elbow on the armrest of his chair so that he can prop his chin in his hand, first two fingers rubbing subtly at his temple. “Forgive me if I’m not at my best,” he comments, just barely managing to keep a pleasant tone, “seeing as I was unexpectedly called into a business meeting first thing on a weekend morning, before my morning tea.”

Erik’s expression seems to clear. “Ah,” he says, glancing down briefly and clearing his throat. “You are right, I apologize. I didn’t think about how uncomfortable electronic communication must be for you. My business partner tolerates it, but then she has no qualms about making her dislike of it clear, particularly when it starts grating on her.”

Now Charles lets himself pinch his nose briefly before rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair, no doubt mussing it even more. “No, no need to apologize, Erik. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.” He offers a self-deprecating smile. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a morning person, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I apologize. Please, tell me what it was you were wanting to talk to me about.”

“Well,” Erik says, for some reason deciding to accept that without a word, “I was hoping we could work together to bring more centers like yours to more areas outside of London, such as the ones that we’ve already worked with bringing housing to and the areas that we’ll be able to help once we team up with Raven.”

This makes Charles perk up immediately. “That is a splendid idea!” he enthuses, sitting up straight in his chair. “I’ve been thinking of expanding, what with how well the Center has been going here, but pairing that with providing housing for potential patients, staff, and visitors is even better.”

Erik smiles. “Raven said you would like the idea, but I’m glad to hear it directly from you.”

“Of course!” Charles says.

“And I would like to discuss this further with you,” Erik continues, “but I don’t want to keep you too long, since this is clearly uncomfortable with you. I will, however, be back in London in about a month, so why don’t we set up a time to meet up then?”

“That is a fantastic idea,” Charles gushes, searching his desk for a pen and some paper, as he left his mobile in his bedroom. “Just give me a second to find something to write down a date, time, and location.”

“It’s fine,” Erik says, laughter in his voice again, as he no doubt gets a kick out of watching Charles get up from his desk with a huff of frustration to grab his bag that he takes back and forth from work, where he _knows_ he keeps a notebook and pencil. “While we’re at it, we can also discuss dinner.”

Head nearly stuffed into his bag – a feat, considering it’s not an especially large bag, and it shouldn’t be this hard to find something he knows is there – Charles barely registers what Erik is saying. “Yes, of course we can get something to eat,” he responds automatically, fingers shuffling through the files and odd bits and bobs. “I do have a tendency to get caught up in work, so we likely will have to stop for a dinner break at some point, no matter what meeting time we set.”

The laughter is even clearer in Erik’s voice as he says Charles’ name, though Charles doesn’t immediately notice, as just then he finds what turns out to be the datebook he’s been searching for for months, as well as his favorite pen. Making a noise of triumph, he brandishes it in victory as he flops back into his desk chair. That’s when he notices another weird look on Erik’s face.

“What?” Charles asks, adjusting his shirt self-consciously. “Is it something I said?”

“I just asked you out on a date,” Erik says slowly, “and you didn’t even notice.” That odd look is still on his face, though he doesn’t seem mad. At least, not as far as Charles can tell, given his limited experience with reading emotions without psionic backup in general, and reading Erik’s emotions in particular.

“Did you?” Charles asks weakly, shrinking in on himself automatically. Tucking his legs in against his body, with his feet resting flat against the seat of the chair, Charles wraps his arms around them. “I – I’m terribly sorry,” he finishes averting his gaze from the screen to look at where he dropped his no-longer-missing datebook and pen.

“It’s fine,” Erik responds immediately. “But I have a meeting that just came up, so why don’t you just give me your number and I can call or text you later about a meetup time to discuss the project next month?”

Charles nods and rattles off his mobile number, still not looking back up at the screen. Despite not being able to read Erik’s expressions, he’s afraid of what he’ll see.

When Charles walks into the Center for Displaced Mutant Youth he doesn’t expect to find Hank McCoy, one of his former patients, working the front desk.

“Hank, I didn’t realize you were working the desk today,” Charles comments as he lifts the divider on the desk that separates the lobby and public areas of the building from the private entrances to the offices.

“Oh, I wasn’t scheduled to come in today,” Hank responds, pushing his glasses up his nose as he looks up from his textbook. The poor boy must be feeling self-conscious today, as he’s in his human form at the moment. “I guess Alex had to go do something with his brother, so I switched my Monday morning shift with him.”

Charles’ eyebrows lift at that; he never would have thought Alex Summers would willingly take a morning shift at all, let alone on a Monday. “Well, that’s very kind of you, Hank,” Charles says, giving Hank’s shoulder a brief squeeze as he passes. “You’re a good friend.”

Hank’s blush is just visible in the corner of Charles’ vision. “Thanks, Professor.”

Huffing a laugh and shaking his head, Charles chooses not to respond to the nickname as he walks back to his office. Ever since he had revealed in a group session a few years ago, when the Center was first getting started, that he had considered teaching while he was getting his doctorates, all of his former and current patients have called him Professor. That is until he turned 25, gaining access to his inheritance, and then his mother died a month later, leading to Charles getting almost the entirety of the Xavier fortune. Then he wanted to do something worthwhile with all of that money that both he and Raven felt they did not deserve. Thus, the idea for the Center was born, the Xavier siblings wanting to create a sanctuary that they wished they had had when they were young. (They don’t talk about how, perhaps if they had had a place to go in their youth that perhaps Charles would not have been experimented on to the extent that he was by his father, and then later their step-father. Or that perhaps Raven would not have been forced to hide in her own home, so as to escape being experimented on as well, when Charles had promised that she would never have to hide again.)

In his office, Charles scrubs his hands over his face as he leans his elbows on his desk. “What is with me today…” he mutters to himself, wondering why he keeps getting caught in melancholy thoughts. The way that meeting with Erik ended doesn’t help matters any either.

 _It’s not just today that you’ve been sad_ , a soft feminine voice says in his mind. _You’ve been sad for a while._

 _Come on in, Jean_ , Charles sends back, giving his young patient the go ahead to use her telekinesis to unlock the office door used by clients. The lock obligingly clicks, the door opens gently, and in walks a tall, eight-year-old girl, red hair and blue eyes stark against her dark skin. When she sees him a smile spreads across her face.

“Hi, Professor,” Jean Grey says aloud, voice still soft and quiet. It’s something the two of them have been working on, being more confident, especially when she’s using her gifts.

Charles smiles in return. “How are you doing today?”

Jean settles herself in her usual armchair, criss-crossing her legs in the seat while Charles moves around the desk to sit in the second armchair in the more open space of the office. “You’re not mad at me for what I said?”

Cocking his head, Charles props his ankle on his opposite knee. “Why do you think I would be upset with you?”

Eyes on her twisting fingers in her lap, Jean says, “Because I sensed your emotions and read your thoughts without your permission.”

“Now Jean,” Charles responds, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward, elbows placed on his knees, “we’ve been over this. As telepaths – and powerful telepaths at that – you and I always have a low-level awareness of the thoughts and feelings of those around us. Even without meaning to, we are constantly registering that which is on the surface level of others’ minds. While we have been working on not actively paying attention to this surface level information coming through, sometimes it can be difficult to not take notice of some of them, especially if there is a lot coming through – such as in a vast metropolis like London and its suburbs.

“So no, I am not upset with you,” Charles finishes. “Backslides are to be expected. If they’re going to happen, I’m more comfortable with them happening with me. All right?”

Silent as she processes his words, Jean eventually nods in understanding. “Why have you been so sad lately, Professor?”

Charles sighs. “I… honestly couldn’t tell you, my dear. Some of us are, shall we say, genetically predisposed to chronic depression or sadness, no matter how well things are going in our lives.”

“If it’s caused by something in your brain,” Jean says slowly, picking up what he hasn’t said, “can’t you do something with your telepathy to – to balance it out?”

“Unfortunately, it’s not that simple,” Charles answers with a lackluster smile.

“Oh,” Jean frowns before looking up at him, face serious. “Well, I hope you feel better soon.”

“Thank you, my dear,” Charles says sincerely, then leans back and claps his hands together. “Right, what have you been up to this week, Jean?”

A shove of his arm makes Charles blink a few times before he mechanically turns his head in that direction. “Yes?” his mouth says, though it doesn’t feel like his own. It feels more like he’s controlling someone else’s body.

The squeeze Raven gives his arm feels muffled, despite his arm being bare. “How long have you been sitting here like this?” she asks, her beautiful blue brow furrowed.

Charles feels his head cock to the side. “I’m not sure… Since I got home, perhaps?”

This doesn’t seem to be the answer Raven wanted. “Charles, Moira told me you left the Center at five o’clock. It’s seven now!”

“Ah… time must have gotten away from me, is all,” Charles responds, his answer automatic.

“Charles, I can tell you’re still dissociating,” Raven says, her voice soft as she leans in. As she does, her mind beckons, worry wafting over him. “You haven’t been this bad in awhile. What do you need me to do?”

Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, Charles grinds the heel of his hand into his forehead in an attempt to bring back more awareness and to keep his errant mind away from Raven’s. “Just… a cup of tea, if you would. And – could you bring me my spare weighted blanket, please?”

“Of course,” Raven responds immediately, giving his forearm another squeeze before getting up. After she grabs the weighted blanket from the old chest that Charles keeps all his spares in and brings it over to him, she heads downstairs to the kitchen. “I’ll be right back. Call if you need anything else.”

Letting out a slow breath, Charles rearranges himself on the sofa until his head is resting on one of the overstuffed arms and his toes are just touching the other. Then he spreads the blanket over himself, the distribution of the additional fifteen pounds starting to bring him back down into himself. Having a dissociative disorder is not a picnic, to say the least. The smallest thing can set him off. Add his telepathy to the equation and it becomes dangerous – if a particularly attractive mind gets too close while he’s dissociating, and Charles is too far gone, there is every possibility that he will latch onto it and take them over.

He really thought he had had a handle on this; Raven is right, it had been more a few months since it had gotten this bad. The trouble is, he’s not sure what set it off, if anything.

While Charles is mulling this over, Raven returns with his tea, an organic herbal stress relief that he has for just such occasions. Smiling his thanks, Charles inhales the soothing scent of cinnamon and sarsaparilla while Raven rearranges him so that he’s sitting up slightly, his head resting on a pillow in her lap and her fingers combing through his hair.

“Isn’t this position supposed to be reversed?” Charles asks, toying with the string of his teabag while he waits for his drink to cool enough to sip. “Being as I’m the older brother and all.”

“Well, you know how I’ve always loved subverting stereotypes,” Raven replies, dutifully giving the same response she does every time this happens. Right on cue, she sharpens her nails just enough to give that little bit of extra bite as she scratches them over Charles’ scalp, simultaneously bringing him further down into his body and soothing his mind.

“Just one of the many reasons I love you,” Charles says with a hum, his eyes drifting closed as the combination of sensations slowly finish bringing him back into himself.

Giving a hum of her own, Raven doesn’t say anything for several minutes, giving Charles the time he needs to drink all of his tea and melt into the sofa. Once he’s done, she takes the mug away from him and sets it safely on the end table to her left. “So, do you want to tell me how your day was? Something happen at the Center today?”

Charles gives a minute shake of the head. “Everything was as usual there today – oh, except Hank took Alex’s shift today because he had something he needed to do with Scott, which was apparently so important that he was willing to take Hank’s Monday morning shift in exchange.”

“Wow,” Raven responds with a soft laugh, “Havok really has been growing into himself, huh? Has a regular job at the Center, doing stuff with his brother, friendly enough with Hank that he’s willing to trade shifts with him.”

A small smile makes its way onto Charles’ face as he looks up at Raven. “You should have seen Hank’s face when I told him he was a good friend to trading shifts with Alex. He blushed so hard I didn’t even need to tune into his thoughts.”

“Those two are both so obvious and oblivious it hurts,” Raven observes with a commiserate shake of the head. “If only I could get Darwin to talk some sense into them.”

Charles can’t help a snort as he lightly slaps Raven’s arm with the back of his hand. “Do not meddle, and don’t shove poor Darwin in the middle, the poor lad.”

“Oh, I don’t think he’d mind, you know what I’m saying?” Raven says with a smirk and a lewd eyebrow wiggle.

“Oh, please don’t,” Charles complains, even as Raven laughs. “Despite them all no longer being my patients, they are still my employees and my friends. I already had to rearrange all of their schedules so that I don’t have to hear them all pining after each other while they’re in the same bloody room, I do not need you making it worse.”

“Sorry,” Raven chortles, downright lying through her teeth. Charles can’t say he minds too much, though; he’s always loved her laugh.

After she’s calmed down and wiped the tears from her face, Raven sobers up quickly, her mind focusing on him so sharply that he would have to hide a wince if he weren’t so used to it after all these years. “Now stop trying to distract me with gossip and tell me what happened today. If it wasn’t something that happened at the Center, then what was it? Did something happen this morning? Did your injections hit you harder this week?”

Sighing in defeat, Charles moves his gaze up to the ceiling. “No more than usual, no. I did have an unexpected video call meeting this morning though.”

“Oh?”

“Mm, from Erik Lehnsherr,” Charles answers. “He was calling to talk to me about the project he had discussed with you, to set up centers where he provides housing. It’s a brilliant idea, better than anything I had come up with so far in my plans to expand – a better way to help the community become involved, at the very least. I’m really quite looking forward to working on this project.”

“Okay, all sounding good so far,” Raven says, voice and mind trailing off as she tries to see the negative in what he’s told her thus far. “And then what happened?”

“He realized how uncomfortable it was for me, having such an extended conversation electronically, so he suggested that we meet up to discuss things further when he’s back into the city next month.” Pausing to swallowing thickly, his eyes still on the ceiling and his mind working desperately to ignore Raven’s, Charles takes a deep breath before continuing. “And then, while I’m searching for something to use to write down our meeting time so I won’t forget – you know how easy it is for me to forget things when I don’t hear it mentally as well – he… he asked me out on a date.”

Here, Charles squeezes his eyes shut, not trusting himself to not look at Raven. His mind, however, is even harder to control and he feels Raven’s emotions loud and clear. Shock, amazement, joy, bewilderment…

“He asked you out?” Raven asks, grabbing hold of his hands and giving them a squeeze. “Charles, that’s amazing! I mean, I thought maybe, after I talked to him for a bit, that you guys might get along, but this is -”

“Raven,” Charles interrupts, his voice quiet. It’s enough; he rarely interrupts a person when they’re talking, especially Raven. “I didn’t notice. He asked me out and I didn’t notice.” Unable to sit still any longer, Charles forces his way out of Raven’s grasp and spills his blanket onto the floor as he starts pacing in front of the fireplace, his hands mucking up his hair as he runs his fingers through it.

“I was – I was so caught off guard. It’s a Saturday, I’m always so off on Saturday mornings, you know that. And then I get this call from out of the blue from this incredibly attractive man, a person with a fascinating mutation who just wants to help his fellow mutants, give them something he never had. And he wants to do that with me, he wants to partner with me to do even more good for our people. I just got so excited at the prospect of discussing it further, of meeting up with him to talk about this in person, so that I could _really_ get into it, y’know? So I’m so focused on trying to find something to write it down, to write down a time for us to meet – and you know how bad I am at communicating when it’s not in person. Hell, you repeatedly accuse me of putting my foot in my mouth even then, and you’re right. Of course you’re right. But I’m just so caught up, and it just takes me so long to process things communicated electronically, and I’m so fucking horrible at reading tone and facial expressions without feedback, and I just… I didn’t notice. Erik asked me out and I didn’t notice.”

Finally pausing in his rambling to take a deep breath, Charles comes to a stop in front of Raven and looks at her. “You should have seen his face, Raven. When he had to point out to me that he had just asked me out. I don’t -” He breaks off with a bite to his lip and shakes his head. “I don’t know what the expression meant, but I’ll never forget it.

“After that, he said he had a meeting that had suddenly come up, unexpectedly. Asked for my number so that he could tell me later what times he’d be available after he came back into town and then he hung up.”

Then room is silent for several moments as Raven processes everything Charles just said, her mind flitting between thoughts. Charles is too tired, and too afraid, to focus on any of them. So, he just waits.

“Charles,” Raven finally whispers, her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes over bright as she stands up and lifts a hand to his cheek, her thumb wiping up moisture she finds there. Now is when Charles notices that his cheeks are damp with still-falling tears, his chest tight and heaving from more than speaking for quickly. This makes him heave a dry sob, prompting Raven to pull him into a fierce hug. She shushes him gently, rocking them back and forth as he cries into her shoulder, getting her scales all wet.

“Hey,” a soft voice says from across the hall, pulling Charles from fitful rest, “it’s me. Charles had a rough one last night.” Pause. “Yeah, I think this has just been building up for awhile now, he just needed that little nudge to push him over the edge, and he got that yesterday.” Pause. “Yeah, if you could that would be great, I think he needs some Raven time today.” Another pause, this one longer.

At this point, Charles’ sluggish mind is too tired to keep up with the one-sided conversation that it doesn’t want to put in the effort to hear the other side of. Instead, it works on cataloguing his surroundings as he forces his open. After he does, he notices that he’s in his bed, door closed and blinds shut tight. His legs around tangled in the blankets, pillows surrounding him on the bed to form a barrier of sorts. Still too tired to process even that, Charles shuts his eyes again.

Next thing he’s aware of, Raven’s familiar mind is murmuring softly nearby, drawing him back into consciousness. His eyes still shut, he mumbles into the pillow he’s hugging against his chest. “Did you build this pillow fort around me?”

Her mind coming to attention, Raven makes her way over to the bed and sits down near Charles’ feet. “No, you did that sometime in the middle of the night. I was upstairs in my room, putting on some pajamas, and when I came back a few minutes later, there you were.”

Charles decides not to question it. “Who was it you were talking to on the phone this morning?”

“You were awake then huh?” Raven asks as Charles feels her stretch out across the bed in front of him, fitting herself between the edge of the bed and his pillows.

Humming, Charles blinks his eyes open to meet Raven’s golden gaze. “Just barely enough to register what you were saying,” he says quietly. “I’m guessing it was Moira?”

“Yeah,” Raven says. “You weren’t in any shape to go in like you were supposed to this morning, so I thought I’d give her a heads up that you’d be taking a mental health day, possibly two depending on how you’re doing tonight.”

He lets out a long sigh and averts his gaze. “It’s likely past the time that I should’ve done so.”

“That’s putting it lightly, Charles,” Raven quips, lightly kicking his foot. “It worries me, that you’re not taking care of yourself when I’m not here. Maybe I shouldn’t travel so much…”

This makes Charles sit up far too quickly, giving himself a headrush that he has to blink away before he can protest. “No, Raven, there’s no need for that. Please don’t stop on account of me. Those trips are so good for you, and you use them to help so many mutants. I couldn’t forgive myself if you stopped all that because of me.”

“But Charles -” Raven begins to protest.

Charles stops her with a raised hand. “Raven, please. I understand how worried you are, and how much you just want to make sure I’m okay, and I love you so much for it,” he says, gripping her hands in his where she’s sat up in front of him. “But please don’t put your life on hold because of my countless mental illnesses. They’ve already affected your life enough.”

“Then stop letting them run yours,” Raven counters. She gives his hands a squeeze before he has time to open his mouth. “I know, I know it’s not as easy as that. And I know that you’ll backside from time to time. But please, just try, okay? And not for me. Not for your patients. For you.”

Swallowing thickly, Charles gives a shaky nod. “You’re right, of course. I guess I’ve just stopped trying recently, and I don’t know why. Being as lonely as I have been likely hasn’t helped, either.”

Raven offers him a tentative smile. “Well, maybe getting out there might help a little? Like going on that date with Erik?”

A groan forces its way out of Charles’ throat as he buries his face in his knees. “After the way our call ended, I don’t know if he would even want to now. Besides, I don’t have his number.”

“Give him time, I’m sure he’ll call by tonight,” Raven says, voice and mind more confident than Charles feels she has the right to be.

That night, after Raven has gone upstairs to take a nap, having stayed up all night keeping an eye on Charles, his phone rings. It’s not a number he knows, but he gives all of his patients his mobile number in case of emergencies. He’s not exactly in the best frame of mind to help anyone right now, especially virtually, but he’s never been very good at putting himself before the welfare of his patients, so he answers.

“This is Dr. Charles Xavier; how may I help you?”

A voice that is far too familiar after one short conversation speaks from the other end. “Charles.”

Mind grinding to a halt, Charles stops in the middle of his attempt to organize is desk. “Erik,” he just barely stops himself from stuttering, “have you called to discuss the time and place for our meeting next month?”

“Actually, I’ve called to apologize,” Erik admits. “I shouldn’t have ended the meeting that way, it was unprofessional – as was asking you out. So I’m sorry.”

His eyebrows lifting toward his hairline, Charles comments, “Well, I appreciate that. Especially since I’ve heard you never apologize for anything.”

Erik huffs. “I do when I’ve done something grievously wrong, which I have done with you.”

Humming thoughtfully, Charles sits back in his chair, tucking his feet up underneath himself. “I wouldn’t say it was _grievously_ wrong, just surprising. You caught me off guard, is all.” He chews on his lip for a moment before deciding to add, “Especially after you didn’t give me the chance to properly respond to your offer for a date.”

The other end of the line is silent for what is likely only a few moments, but feels to Charles like several minutes. He’s starting to regret saying anything when Erik finally responds. “Is that right?” he asks, his voice quieter and subtly deeper. Something about it makes Charles close his eyes and take a sharp breath. “So I wasn’t overstepping my bounds?”

Charles can’t hold back a laugh at that. “Believe me, Erik; if that meeting had happened in person, I would have starting flirting with you the moment our eyes met – if not before,” he admits. “So no, you didn’t overstep your bounds at all, my friend.”

“It really was because you couldn’t process the information as well from it being a virtual conversation?” Erik double checks. When Charles hums in the affirmative, Erik lets out a sigh that Charles wants to believe is one of relief. “That’s what Emma said, but I wasn’t sure. She did say not being able to hear another person’s mind affects each telepath differently, so I didn’t know how accurate her information would be.”

“That’s certainly true,” Charles says, toying with his favorite pen that still sits atop his desk. “I’ve only met a handful of other telepaths, and thus far none of them have been affect quite so… acutely as I am, but they are affected nonetheless.”

“Well, I’m sorry if I made it worse for you by springing a request for a date on you like that,” Erik says, surprising Charles with yet another apology. Charles has the feeling that Erik is going to continue to surprise him for as long as they know each other.

“Well, then, don’t just suddenly leave on me like that, then,” Charles quips, making Erik laugh and promise he won’t. Then he adds more seriously, “And please, whenever we talk and we’re not in person, please be patient with me. Text I’m okay with, but voice or video calls not so much. As you saw yesterday. So if I miss something, interpret something incorrectly, or seem to zone out or take longer to process something, please at least try to not get too frustrated with me. I know I can be a handful, and I’m bound to get on your nerves, but just give me a chance.”

Erik hums on the other end of the call. “As long as you don’t lose too much patience of your own when it comes to my anger.”

Charles smiles self-deprecatingly to himself. “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”

Laughing, Erik makes a quip of his own. “Just imagine how we’ll be when we get together in person.”

Smile becoming more genuine, Charles replies, “We’ll be a force to reckon with.”

“I’m sure we will.”

“Charles?” Raven’s voice says from the doorway of his office.

Stopping his desk chair mid-spin as he laughs at something Erik just said, Charles moves his mobile away from his mouth a bit. “Well that was a short nap,” he comments.

Arms folding over her chest, Raven leans against the doorjamb and lifts an eyebrow at him. She doesn’t say anything, but as Charles made a promise long ago to not purposefully read her mind, he just lifts his own eyebrows in return. Raven rolls her eyes. “It’s been two hours since I laid down, Charles.”

“Wha – really?” Charles exclaims, his eyebrows lifting even higher. He moves the phone back toward his mouth. “Erik, did you know it’s been two hours since you first called?”

“Well,” Erik replies, “I knew it had been longer than I expected you to be able to handle, but I didn’t realize it had been that long. You are still all right, aren’t you?”

This time, Charles is sure he can read the concern in Erik’s voice. It makes him smile. “Would I have just been laughing at that awful joke you just told if I wasn’t?”

Erik gives a hum. “I don’t know. I’ve only known you a few hours, but I wouldn’t put it past you to put up a façade of well-being so as not to worry others.”

Huffing a laugh, Charles shakes his head in disbelieve. “Are you sure you’re not the psychiatrist here?”

“Maybe I just recognize the signs from firsthand experience,” Erik says in return. “I’m guessing you realizing the time means Raven has woken from her nap?”

“It does indeed,” Charles says, mouthing a ‘what’ at Raven, who’s watching him with an odd look on her face. She just shakes her head at him.

“Good, maybe she can convince you to finally eat dinner,” Erik is saying.

Charles can’t help a ridiculous pout, despite knowing Erik can’t see it. “I told you I’m not very hungry.”

“And I told you I don’t care,” Erik rejoins. “You probably haven’t had anything other than tea today, so you need to eat.”

Grinding his teeth a little bit because he can’t even refute that, Charles sighs. “How you know me so well from one decent phone conversation is beyond me. I fear for when we meet in person.”

Erik laughs. “You should be afraid, I’m rather frightening.”

“Goodbye, Erik,” Charles says, deciding not to respond to that for now. Maybe if he thinks of something later, he’ll text it to Erik.

“Goodnight, Charles,” Erik says, his voice softer now. “Tell Raven I said hello.”

“Will do. Sleep well, my friend.” With that, Charles ends the call and stuffs his mobile in his lounge shorts pocket. Once it’s put away, he waves a hand in Raven’s direction. “Go on, then. I know you want to say something.”

Sucking her lips in and biting at them briefly, Raven shakes her head before letting them go. “No, I don’t think I do.”

Shocked, Charles’ head jerks back at that. “Really? Nothing?”

Raven smirks at him as she stands back up to her full height and relaxes her arms back down to her sides. “I’m not you, Charles. I can let things lie without comment. Just,” she tacks on, as Charles is drawing breath to speak, “take your time, okay?”

Breathing out slowly through his nose, Charles nods. “I will,” he says, knowing Raven is just worried for him. It still doesn’t take away the sting from her comment.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Charles and Erik talk fairly frequently. Random texts throughout the day, just little thoughts, observations, snide comments, what have you. Sporadic calls become a nightly routine, when one night Charles can’t sleep and, without thinking about it, he calls Erik.

It’s strange. Charles has always struggled to hold a phone conversation for anything longer than a few minutes. But with Erik, while he’s still not great at reading tone, it hasn’t been as much of a hindrance. It’s truly astonishing, and Charles has no explanation for it other than perhaps that breakdown he had after their first conversation worked as some sort of factory reset. Whatever it is, he’s glad for it, because he has quickly grown attached to Erik, and they haven’t even met in person yet.

A knock at the administrative doorframe of Charles’ office startles him out of his reverie. Shaking his head clear, he spins his desk chair to face the doorway behind him to find his colleague, Dr. Moira MacTaggert, standing there with her fist still resting against the frame. She cocks an eyebrow at him.

“You doing all right, Charles?” she asks.

“Just fine, thank you,” Charles says, offering a small smile. “Was there something you needed?”

Her other eyebrow joins the first. “Your phone has been ringing for the past ten minutes.”

“Has it?” Grabbing his mobile from off his desk, Charles finds a few missed calls and texts from Erik and Raven both. Then he notices the time. “Oh bollocks, I was meant to meet Erik for dinner ten minutes ago!”

Moira waves him ahead. “Go, I’ll lock up your office for you,” she offers.

“You’re the best,” Charles breaths, kissing her on the cheek before he rushes out of the office, vaulting the front desk divider. Behind him, Angel calls her encouragement for a good date. He telepathically sends his thanks, sprinting down the street toward the restaurant they agreed to meet outside of. Luckily, the Indian place they chose is only about five blocks away from the Center, so it doesn’t take him too long.

Rounding the corner, he nearly stops in time to not run into a man standing there, but trips on a crack in the sidewalk and ends up tripping into him anyway. Firm, muscular arms wrap around Charles to hold him steady. Charles isn’t prepared for the way the contact sharpens his telepathy’s focus, narrowing onto the mind of the man whose arms he is in.

Gasping, Charles looks up into the crystal-clear eyes of –

“Oh Erik,” Charles says breathlessly, feeling his eyes widen and his heartbeat quicken. “Your mind, it’s – it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Smirk spreading across his face, Erik’s arms briefly tighten around Charles. “Stop objectifying me, Charles,” he snarks, the joking clear in that oh so bright mind.

“Sorry I’m late,” Charles responds, voice still breathier than he would like. “The time got away from me.”

“It’s quite all right, Charles. I’m just glad nothing was the matter, I was worried. It’s not like you to ignore a call.” The lingering worry in Erik’s mind and eyes backs up his statement.

Charles melts a little at the stark concern. “I’m fine, darling. Just a little… distracted.”

Mind tripping up over Charles’ use of the term of endearment, Erik seems to absentmindedly lift one of his hands to lightly run a thumb over the bags under Charles’ eyes. “As long as you’re sure,” Erik murmurs, his eyes searching Charles’ as he takes further note of the dark bags and the fatigue clear in the line of his shoulders.

Simultaneously melting and restless under the undivided attention, Charles offers a small but genuine smile. “I’ll be surer once we get some curry, I’m starving.”

Erik rolls his eyes even as he wraps an arm around Charles’ waist to lead him the rest of the way to the restaurant. “I figured as much.”

Charles’ mind practically purrs as it delights in its proximity to Erik’s as they make their way through dinner, both mesmerized and calmed for the first time since Charles can remember.

When Charles gets home that night, he’s surprised to hear Raven’s mind in the living room, playing with her phone.

“What’re you doing here? Don’t you have an early flight tomorrow?” Charles asks, sitting down on the sofa next to her.

After she sets her phone down on the coffee table, Raven turns in her seat to face Charles and tucks her feet up under herself. “Wanted to find out how your date went, and since I know Erik won’t tell me anything, despite tricking him into being my friend…” she replies, trailing off meaningfully.

Rolling his eyes, Charles curls up in his corner of the sofa, hugging a throw pillow to his chest. “What would you like to know, nosey sister mine?”

The next day, Charles is in his office, in the middle of a peer review of an article on psionic discrimination in mutant communities, when a familiar enticing mind draws his attention. He’s just setting aside the article, his pen, and his reading glasses when Sean knocks on his open door.

“Hey, Prof, there’s some creepy German guy in the lobby that says he’s supposed to have some sort of meeting with you at noon?” he says.

Shaking his head with a laugh, Charles pats Sean’s shoulder as he passes him in the doorway. “While Erik does have a tendency to scowl, I assure you that there’s nothing creepy about him, Sean.”

“If you say so, Professor,” Sean replies, clearly not believing Charles as he follows him back up to the front desk.

Sure enough, there in the lobby in a deliciously tight white polo and khakis that highlight his wide shoulders and ridiculously trim hips is Erik, hands tucked in his trouser pockets as he surveys the Center’s lobby. As Charles walks toward him, he looks up with a small smile that shows primarily in his eyes.

“Y’know, I feel like I just saw you a few hours ago,” Charles says, coming to a stop closer to Erik than strictly necessary, leaving a scant couple of feet between them. He tucks his hands into his trouser pockets as well, in an attempt to fight the temptation to reach out and touch Erik in a manner that would be inappropriate in his business.

Erik’s smile becomes a tad more perceptible as he takes note of Charles’ hand placement. “That’s because you did, you ridiculous man.”

A grin spreading across his own face, Charles hums before motioning behind himself. “Why don’t you come on back so we can get started on brainstorming?”

“By all means, lead the way,” Erik says. As he follows Charles back to his office, Erik doesn’t keep it a secret that he’s thoroughly checking out Charles’ ass.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Charles stifles any response until they’re in his office and both doors are shut. Once they are, he turns around and grabs ahold of the front of Erik’s shirt. “Before we get started,” he says, “please do try to keep such lascivious thoughts to yourself until we make some sort of headway, otherwise we won’t get anywhere.”

Eyebrow lifting and one corner of his mouth curling in a smirk, Erik asks, “What’s the matter, Charles? Can’t shut out such thoughts about yourself?”

“Normally I’d have no trouble. But with you,” Charles admits, “I’m afraid with how tantalizing your mind is, and how little time we’ve spent together in person, it’s going to be a bit more difficult to ignore such distracting thoughts, let alone keep track of the difference between those and what you’re actually saying aloud.”

Erik’s other eyebrow lifts in curiosity. “Do you really have trouble telling the difference?”

Choosing his words carefully, Charles says, “It’s been known to happen.” Wanting to move past that, he leads the way over to the couch his patients usually sit in and pats the cushion directly next to him.

Smirk morphing back into a smile, Erik takes the offered seat. “Now, where did we want to start?”

Over the next two weeks, Charles and Erik spend every day and night together. For a few hours during the day, between Charles’ appointments with patients and the occasional walk-in, they discuss the logistics of adding centers in the areas where BoM, Inc has already provided housing, as well as the next areas the both of them would like to build. At night, they go on dates, a different restaurant every night.

Charles can’t remember having so much fun in years, working with and getting to know Erik. They have countless friendly arguments over everything from locations to build to where to have dinner, from the proper methods to teach young mutants control methods to the benefits of segregation versus integration. Those last two arguments in particular become a little… overheated would be putting it lightly. Despite being kicked out of the restaurant they’re in two nights in a row for disturbing fellow patrons with their passionate discussions, Charles doesn’t regret them one bit. He’s never met anyone else so dedicated to the cause, nor anyone so willing to contradict everything Charles says.

Quite frankly, it’s incredibly arousing. Especially that second night.

Not wanting the night to end, Charles invites Erik back to his house. Erik wholeheartedly accepts, his mind similarly lit up in interest.

A four-bedroom detached Regency-period house in the Ashburnham Triangle Conservation Area, Charles is quite proud of his little home. The lower ground level bedroom is his, with the bathroom across the hall, and the kitchen opening onto a decently-sized dining room. On the ground floor proper is the living room, the walls covered in shelves chock full of books. In the back, right corner next to the French doors leading out to the garden is a turn table and stacks of records that used to be Charles’ grandparents’. Across the hall, also with doors leading out to the garden, is Charles’ study and another room that he uses as a sort of catch-all, having not found a use for it yet. The first floor has three bedrooms, one of which is Raven’s when she decides to stay the night, and a second bathroom.

When they enter, Erik wanders into the living room to inspect the shelves after they line their shoes up next to the front door.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Charles offers. “Water, tea, coffee?”

Humming, Erik moves on to the bookcase holding Charles’ mutant psychology texts. “No offer of a nightcap?”

“Ah, no,” Charles says, watching Erik closely as he continues. This is a topic he’s thus far been able to avoid. “I’m afraid this is a dry house.” When Erik doesn’t react any more than his mind twigging in curiosity, Charles relaxes without having noticed he had tensed up. “Finding anything of interest?”

“Not anything more interesting than what’s in front of me,” Erik says, turning around to look Charles up and down.

Charles barks a laugh at that, even as he feels himself flush. “And I thought I was the one with terrible lines.”

A smirk spreads itself over Erik’s face as he slinks his way over to Charles where he’s leaning his hip against one of the sofas. “Really? I’ve been thinking lines similar to that effect all evening,” he says, wrapping an arm around Charles’ waist and gently pulling Charles into him. “Y’know, for a telepath, you’re not very observant.”

Charles huffs. “In all honesty, I try not to look too closely at the minds around me. Out of self-preservation, I suppose. I may make an exception for you, though,” he adds, smirking at Erik.

One of Erik’s eyebrows lifts. “Because of my exceptional mind?”

Nodding, Charles steps out of Erik’s hold. “Yours is the most… calming mind I’ve ever seen,” he explains, sitting in one corner of the sofa while Erik takes the other, leaving them a comfortable amount of room to sit facing each other. “Most non-psionics’ minds are very cluttered, their thoughts and feelings all in a tangled mess that requires skill to sort through without affecting that person. But yours, it’s almost orderly. Focused. It’s really quite lovely, darling.”

Erik laughs as he shifts in his seat to face Charles, one long leg folded in front of him. “That’s definitely the most interesting compliment I’ve received.”

Chuckling himself, Charles mirrors Erik’s position. “Well, I’m glad I could be of some use, at least,” he jokes.

“Oh liebling,” Erik say softly, reaching his hand across the back of the couch to grab Charles’, “you have been more than just ‘of use’ to me over the last month and a half.”

Bottom lip between his teeth, Charles ducks his head. “Good, I’m glad.”

A tug on his hand makes him look back up. “C’mere,” Erik requests, tugging on Charles’ hand again as he gives a beckoning nod.

Powerless to refuse, Charles knees his way across the length of the sofa as Erik brings his other leg up. Charles comes to a stop once he’s straddling Erik’s lap, settling down on Erik’s thighs and twining his fingers in Erik’s hair. With one hand, he plays with the hairs at the nape of Erik’s neck. “You beckoned?”

“Mm yes,” Erik practically purrs, his hands coming to rest on Charles’ hips. “And now I have you just where I’ve wanted you for the past two weeks, if not longer.”

“Is that right?” Charles murmurs, gaze flicking between Erik’s eyes and lips as he slowly leans in.

“Yes,” Erik breaths before bridging the last gap to bring their mouths together, capturing Charles’ lips in a kiss.

The contact makes Charles take in a sharp breath, and he leans more of his weight into the kiss, deepening it. Erik leans into it in turn, his hands tightening their hold on Charles’ hips. This makes him groan and tighten his own fingers in Erik’s hair. Muttering a soft expletive at the tug, Erik lets Charles lick into his mouth, Charles running the point of his tongue lightly from the soft to the hard palate. Erik’s hands move back to grip at Charles’ ass, squeezing a cheek in each hand.

Breaking off the kiss with a gasp, Charles pulls back enough to lean their foreheads together, though he can’t stop himself from arching into the hold Erik has on his ass. “Fuck,” he breaths, panting. “Just gimme – give me a minute, yeah? It’s been awhile.”

“Take your time, liebling,” Erik murmurs with equally panting breaths, releasing his hold on Charles’ ass to stroke his hands up and down Charles’ back. “I’m not in any rush.”

He wasn’t lying when he said it’d been awhile; Charles has found it difficult to find anyone who is okay with him being both transgender and telepathic. That and he’s not big on meaningless sex, considering the couple of experiences he had in undergrad, when he was still in the process of transitioning and not exactly of sound mind. Suffice it to say, he’s feeling a bit overwhelmed and anxious.

“You’re thinking very loudly,” Erik says very quietly after a few minutes, his hands still caressing Charles’ back.

Brow furrowed, Charles leans back so their eyes can meet. “You could hear me?”

Erik shakes his head. “No, but I can feel this – this sort of buzzing, around my temples.” He pulls one of his hands away to tap at his right temple. “It doesn’t hurt,” he’s quick to reassure when Charles’ forehead furrows even further. “It’s actually fairly pleasant.”

Mouth dropping open, Charles searches Erik’s face and his surface feelings. What he finds supports what Erik said, backing Charles’ belief that he is an honest man. Still, it’s… it’s hard to believe. “R-really? You’re – you’re absolutely sure?”

Cocking his head and smiling softly, Erik cups Charles’ cheek with the hand not still rubbing Charles’ back. “Charles, do I really seem like the type of man to lie just to protect someone’s feelings?”

Charles can’t help but huff a soft laugh at that. “Not at all.”

“Good,” Erik murmurs, leaning back in slowly, giving Charles the chance to stop him if he still needs another minute.

Not needing another second, Charles breaks the distance and immediately licks his way back into Erik’s mouth. Erik hums in response, both of his hands on Charles’ back again, rucking up his shirt to get at the skin. The feeling of Erik’s long fingered, callused hands upon the skin of his lower back makes Charles hum in return as he arches into the touch. Their tongues twining together sends a tingle down Charles’ spine, intensified by Erik’s roaming hands. They make a slow climb up Charles’ sides until they’re cupping Charles’ ribs. Charles is on board with this until Erik’s thumbs stroke upwards to the undersides of Charles’ pecs, beginning to stroke along the scars there. The contact makes Charles jump out of the kiss, scrambling back across the couch even as a whimper of pleasure escapes his throat. Chest heaving, his arms automatically come up to wrap around his torso, nails digging into the skin over his ribs where Erik’s hands were just resting.

Panting himself, Erik holds his hands up between them, palms out and open. “I’m sorry,” he gasps, voice painfully sincerely. “Charles, liebling, I am so sorry. I didn’t think – I should have asked if you wanted – if you were okay with attention there. I’m so sorry, liebling.” The way Erik stumbles over his words is jolting, as he’s normally quite eloquent.

Bile rises in the back of Charles’ throat as Erik apologizes, though he’s unsure whether it’s in response to the attention to the scars, and by extension to his chest, or to his shockingly positive reaction to said attention. Swallowing it back, Charles tries to force his startled heartbeat to slow. “No, it’s – it’s all right. I was just… startled, I suppose.”

Erik watches him carefully, keeping his distance until Charles gives him the okay. It warms Charles’ heart, so much so that he releases his hold on himself and stands up from the sofa. Once he’s steady on his feet, he reaches a hand out for Erik. He grabs Charles’ hand and stands up as well, looking at Charles questioningly. Charles smiles as he twines their fingers together.

“I’m going to give you a proper tour, and then we’re going down to my bedroom,” he explains. “I don’t know about you, but I’m absolutely knackered and could do with a good cuddle. If that’s all right.”

Leaning in, Erik places a kiss on Charles’ forehead. “Sounds perfect.”

By the time Charles has given Erik the tour, and grabbed a spare toothbrush for Erik from the upstairs bathroom, Charles is feeling beat. Giving Erik use of the bathroom first, Charles debates with himself for a few minutes over whether he should just wear his usual old shirt and boxers to bed or not before telling himself he’s being ridiculous and changing into them. He’s just finished pulling his shirt on when Erik comes back into the bedroom.

“I probably don’t have anything that will fit you,” Charles says apologetically, motioning to his dresser, “but you’re free to try.”

Erik shrugs. “I’ll probably just wear my boxers. If that’s all right with you.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Charles says, backing toward the door. “I’m just gonna go…” He peters off, thumbing over his shoulder toward the bathroom. When Erik just chuckles softly at him, Charles turns around and takes his turn getting ready for bed, brushing his teeth and using the loo. Once he’s finished washing his hands, he looks at himself in the mirror for a few moments, psyching himself up. He’s never shared a bed like this with anyone before – Raven doesn’t count, being as she’s his sister – so he’s not sure if there’s some sort of etiquette.

You’ll never find out if you don’t suck it up and go in there, a voice inside his head says, sounding so much like Raven he would think it was actually her if he didn’t know any better.

Shaking his head at himself, Charles opens the bathroom door back up and shuts off the light before heading back across the hall to his bedroom. There, he meets the sight of Erik sitting at the foot of the bed in only his boxers. It’s such a lovely image, all that lightly tanned skin and lean muscle covered in a dusting of auburn hair, that Charles almost misses the picture frame in Erik’s hands.

A square, burnished bronze with vine-like detail, it holds a photo of Raven and Charles when they were children. The only photo of himself he saved from before his transition, it’s one that Charles can’t bring himself to get rid of. It was taken not long after Charles found Raven in his kitchen, when he was ten years old and she was five. Charles had managed to sneak them out of the house and, working together using their abilities, they were able to make it into town. That day, Charles was actually able to be a child, and himself, without having to worry about his mother scolding him or his father studying him. To this day it is one of the happiest of Charles’ life, and he’ll always be thankful for the kind stranger who offered to take their picture with the polaroid camera the person had with them, and that they didn’t shy away when Raven shifted back into her natural form for the photo.

“The two of you look very happy here,” Erik comments, looking up from the frame to give Charles a soft smile.

“Yes,” Charles agrees, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to Erik and taking the frame into his own hands. “This was before I started breaking all my promises to her. Before I almost lost her when we had only just found each other.”

He can feel Erik looking at him, though he doesn’t dare take a peek at Erik’s thoughts. Charles has never revealed much to the public about his upbringing, nor has Raven; the both of them have just hinted at enough to explain why they decided to use their family fortune to start the Center, as well as the foundation that Raven runs that works with mutants of all ages all around the world. If people are able to link those hints with the research available to the public that was published by Brian Xavier and Kurt Marko, they may be able to put two and two together. Erik is just the sort of man that would be aware of the research and, having already admitted that he’s been following Charles’ career as a mutant youth psychologist and mutant rights activist, Charles would not put it past him to have put more together than the general public. Especially after having developed close relationships with both Raven and Charles in just over a month’s time.

“You have each other now,” Erik says in response. “That’s what matters.”

Standing up to set the frame back on his dresser, Charles hums in agreement. “You’re quite right.” After straightening the frame, Charles turns back around and smiles softly at his bed fellow. “And now we have you.”

“You do indeed,” Erik says, his voice soft as he stands up as well to stroke the back of a finger over Charles’ cheek. “Now, how about we go to bed? I thought you said you were exhausted.”

“I am, just let me turn off the light first.” He starts to head toward the door to flip the switch, but Erik grabs his hand and holds him back. Charles lifts an eyebrow.

“No need,” Erik says, pulling Charles back with him toward the bed.

Curious, Charles follows along, letting Erik get them both settled. He takes note of Erik taking the side of the bed closest to the door as he shifts on his side to watch what Erik is going to do next.

With a slight motion of Erik’s hand, the door pulls itself nearly shut, leaving itself open just a crack. Then, with a flick of Erik’s finger, the light switches off.

“Amazing,” Charles breaths, looking at Erik in the moonlight shining through his window. Over the last two weeks, he’s of course seen the way Erik casually uses his powers to perform small, everyday tasks. There’s something extra special about seeing it in such an intimate setting, however. “I love how you so casually use your powers,” he says, repeating something he’s said several times already. “And the way your mind lights up with it…”

Erik groans, even as his mind tingles with laughter. “Why do you have to bring up such a fascinating topic of discussion now?”

“Sorry,” Charles laughs quietly. “I’ll tell you about it in the morning.”

A yawn interrupts Erik before he can respond. “Good,” he says, once he’s finished yawning. He pats a hand on the mattress in the two feet of space between them. “Now come here.”

Smiling at how commanding Erik is even when he’s close to sleep, Charles scoots himself closer. When he’s bridged the first foot, Erik grabs ahold of the same hand as earlier and uses it to arrange Charles to his liking. Charles ends up with his chest pressed to Erik’s back, his arm curled around Erik’s waist, his hand still held in Erik’s grasp.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a little spoon,” Charles comments, watching as his breath ruffles the hair at the nape of Erik’s neck.

“Everybody likes to be held sometimes,” Erik replies, tightening his grip on Charles’ hand. “Besides, I figured you’d be more comfortable with this right now.”

Charles veritably melts at how considerate Erik is. Sniffing back some tears of gratitude, he kisses the back of Erik’s neck in thanks. “Goodnight, darling.”

“Goodnight, liebling,” Erik murmurs.

The first thing Charles becomes aware of when he wakes up the next morning is the sound of a deep, melodic voice humming an oddly catching tune. With it comes the feeling of slender fingers toying with his hair, trim nails occasionally scratching over his scalp. The fingers of another hand tap a rhythm against his spine, in sync with the humming. Underneath his cheek, beneath the warm, firm chest, is a steady heartbeat.

Snuffling against the skin beneath his cheek, Charles mumbles, “What’s that you’re humming? It’s nice.”

At the sound of his voice, both sets of fingers stop moving, along with the humming. “You could hear that?” Erik asks aloud, at the same time that Charles realizes that the humming had, in fact, not been aloud.

Keeping his face hidden in Erik’s chest, Charles tucks his mind back in from where it had stretched out in his sleep, though it is reluctant to unlatch itself from Erik. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. When Erik continues not to move nor say anything, Charles sits up, pulling himself out of Erik’s arms and folding his own around his raised legs. He continues to avoid Erik’s gaze, though he can feel it watching him. “I honestly didn’t mean to. My mind tends to latch onto the next closest one while I’m sleeping, if I’m not careful the night before. I won’t let it happen again. I promise.”

“Hey,” Erik says softly. The bedding ruffles behind Charles as Erik sits up as well and places a hand on Charles’ shoulder when he doesn’t respond. “Charles, look at me.” Erik’s voice is firmer this time, but no less gentle.

Swallowing thickly, Charles turns so that he’s facing Erik fully. With his movement, Erik’s hand shifts from Charles’ shoulder to his cheek.

“I should have mentioned this sooner, I see that now,” Erik starts, after making sure Charles meets his eyes. “While it’s true that I didn’t have the best experience with telepaths in the past, even with Emma, that doesn’t affect my opinion of you, or your telepathy. You have been nothing but respectful of boundaries that I had not set, despite the fact that I know it’s harder for you to do so.

“We’ve only known each other for a short period of time, and I’m not exactly known for trusting people, but I trust you,” Erik continues, his other hand lifting to cradle Charles’ face. “I trust you to stick to only what’s on the surface, and what I direct to you, unless I give you explicit permission to go further and do more. And you deserve for me to make that clear to you.”

Charles feels a lump in his throat, and his eyes and chest are fit to burst, but he has to be sure. “You’re absolutely positive?”

“Would I lie to you?” Erik asks with a small smile, caressing Charles’ cheeks. “We should all be able to feel safe to use our mutations, to be our full and true selves. Especially with our loved ones. So yes, I am quite positive.”

Sniffling, Charles gives Erik a wobbly smile. “Oh, my friend,” he whispers in an attempt to keep control of his voice. Still, it clearly cracks in the middle of the last word. “You have no idea just how long, and just how much I’ve needed to hear that from someone else.”

Erik’s brow furrows as one of his thumbs wipes up an errant tear as it starts to trails its way down one of Charles’ cheeks. “Not even Raven?”

Charles’ smile turns self-deprecating as he gives a slight shake of the head. “As I mentioned last night, I broke too many promises to her over the years,” he replies honestly. “And even in the beginning, she never truly trusted my abilities or my control.”

As Erik’s light eyes darken, and his mind becomes a tangle of anger at Raven’s hypocrisy about being “Mutant and Proud”, Charles girds himself for the onslaught of one of the tirades that Erik is well-known for by mutants and humans alike. Instead, Erik takes a deep breath and pushes the anger aside, making way for worry and care for Charles. That pushes Charles over the edge, and he lurches forward to capture Erik’s lips in a heated kiss, morning breath be damned. Into the kiss, he pours his gratitude and affection for Erik.

 _You are truly a remarkable man, my friend,_ Charles sends as well.

Smiling into the kiss, Erik sends back, _What’s with all this ‘my friend’ this morning? What happened to ‘darling’?_

The clarity of Erik’s mental reply makes Charles veritably melt, breaking the kiss in the process. He rests their foreheads together instead. “My apologies, darling.”

“Mm, that’s better,” Erik says in a thoroughly satisfied tone before recapturing Charles’ lips in a brief, yet astoundingly filthy kiss that makes Charles groan when he breaks it off.

“Tease,” Charles huffs, making Erik laugh.

“Sorry, liebling,” he chuckles, pulling back and getting out of bed. Once he’s standing, he starts to stretch, giving Charles less reason to complain with all that lean muscle on display. “But I figured you did want to eat breakfast at some point.”

Sighing, Charles gets out of bed as well. “Yes, I suppose you’re right,” he says, giving a small hum of satisfaction when both of his shoulders pop. “Though I’m not sure if I have anything kosher in the house. Want to check while I use the loo?”

“Sure,” Erik says, gratitude clear in his mind that Charles even thought of it, even though Charles knows Erik keeps kosher more out of habit and to keep his mother happy than for any religious reasons. “Oh, and by the way, just before you woke up an alarm went off on your phone.”

It takes a moment for Charles to remember what day it is. “Ah yes, it is Saturday, isn’t it? I’ll just be moment longer in the bathroom, then. Feel free to use the one upstairs so you don’t have to wait.”

“All right,” Erik says with a small smile, giving Charles a chaste peck on the lips before heading across the hall to do just that. He doesn’t stop to consider even putting his shirt back on as he goes, making Charles smile to himself at how comfortable Erik already is in Charles’ home.

Humming to himself, Charles goes about his usual Saturday morning routine of using the loo and then taking his injection. This morning it’s not quite as distressing as it normally is, though Charles is reluctant to name a cause. For now, he’s just going to put it down to a coincidence that Erik happens to be here, as he doesn’t want to make the mistake of becoming dependent on another person for his happiness once again.

Since Erik doesn’t seem to care about clothes, Charles doesn’t bother putting on any either and heads across the hall to the kitchen where he can hear Erik puttering around. He stops in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the right side of the wide doorway as he takes in the view before him. There Erik is, moving about the kitchen as if it were his own, a knife cutting up vegetables on the counter next to the stove. While those are chopping, Erik is mixing some ingredients together in a bowl, a glass baking dish prepped and the oven preheating. Once the veggies are all done, the cutting board lifts and the knife scrapes them into the pan, spreading them evenly across the bottom. Charles is confused about how Erik is using his powers to lift the cutting board, as it’s made from bamboo, until he notices a little bit of aluminum foil along the edge.

“Do you always add metal materials to objects so you can use your powers on them?” Charles asks, his curiosity thoroughly peaked.

Erik hums in the affirmative. “Most things around my flat are made of metal in some way, but those things that don’t I’ll add a paperclip or something similar when I’m multitasking; it just makes everything easier.”

“I can imagine it also makes navigating when it’s dark or you’re tired easier as well,” Charles adds as Erik pours what appears to be an egg mixture overtop of the eggs in the baking dish before sprinkling on some cheese and then sticking it in the oven.

“There is that,” Erik says with a smirk over his shoulder at Charles, taking the dishes he’s used over to the sink.

“Sit your ass down, love,” Charles says, moving up next to Erik and bumping their hips lightly together. “You made breakfast, even though I distinctly remember only telling you to check if I had anything to eat.”

Shrugging, Erik only moves over enough for them to stand next to each other in front of the sink. “I wanted to,” he says. “I’ll let you wash if I dry.”

“Let me wash when this is my house,” Charles grumbles, soaping up a sponge.

Next to him, Erik doesn’t make a secret of his amused affection, which warms Charles as they work together in silence for the next few minutes. After they’re done, Charles sets about filling the kettle to boil some water for his morning tea, automatically getting more than enough for the both of them. It’s comfortable, and so very domestic, and Charles wouldn’t change this morning for anything.

On Monday, at the end of month staff meeting, Charles invites Erik and Raven both to attend, to give everyone else the chance to give any input they might have above building more centers in other cities and countries. Programs they think might do well, that sort of thing. And to give them the opportunity to help establish the centers if they would like.

Plus, over the last few years of working together, every one of them has grown to be family to Charles and Raven, and he would like them to get to know Erik, and for Erik to get to know them.

“I’m sure you’re all aware that I have been having frequent meetings over the past couple of weeks,” Charles says at the head of the meeting, once everyone has settled. “And I’m sure you’re all curious to know what they’ve been about, especially since you’ve all been letting Erik back to my office every day.” Here he gestures to Erik, who is standing to one side of him.

“Honestly, Professor,” Alex speaks up, lifting his hand a little, “we all just thought he was just a booty call.”

“I didn’t!” Hank protests, somehow managing to blush through his bright blue fur. Charles can hear the lie, even if Hank isn’t aware of it, while the others agree with Alex, even Darwin and Moira.

Turning to Moira, Charles lifts an eyebrow. “Et tu?”

She shrugs shamelessly. “I know what you’ve been discussing, but c’mon.” She gestures between him and Erik. “Your feelings for each other are obvious. So, if you spent some of the time getting a little afternoon delight, I wouldn’t have been surprised.”

Erik snorts at Moira’s use of the old saying, while telling Charles silently, _Frankly, I wouldn’t have minded._

Sending Erik a silent admonishment, Charles goes back to addressing the room as a whole. “While yes, Erik and I are romantically involved, we have not been hooking up in my office. What we have been doing is discussing what Raven and I have been wanting to do for a while now – opening other centers like this one in other cities and countries.”

Here, Erik picks up the narrative. “Over the past few years, my company has been providing housing to mutant individuals and families in need throughout western Europe. A great deal of these communities are in need of support similar to what you provide here.

“As such, about a month and a half ago I approached Raven about working with her, and she put me in contact with Charles. Since then, we’ve been discussing the logistics, and we think we have a solid plan set for how and where to start.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Darwin asks from his spot sitting between Alex and Hank.

Raven speaks up this time. “Well, Charles wanted to ask you dweebs if you had any ideas that you wanted to give for the program, and to see if you wanted to join me in helping to set the centers up.”

“You mean, go to other countries where Erik has already provided housing?” Angel asks.

“To start,” Charles says. “After that, we want to work together to expand beyond western Europe. I’m sure, for instance, you all are familiar with areas in the States that might benefit from our programs, considering you all lived there for much of your lives.”

Angel shrugs, feigning nonchalance, though Charles can feel her excitement. “I know of some places. I’d be down to help out and travel with you, Raven.”

Charles had a feeling that Angel would like the opportunity to travel more, despite having refused Raven’s offers for her to tag along on trips in the past. Actually hearing her volunteer, however, pleases Charles to no end; he always so enjoys seeing his former patients grow.

“I’ll help out with recruitment,” Moira adds. “I’m sure for general staff it’ll be good to get people from the community. But to start with we may have to get visiting psychologists and other professionals until we can find people that mesh well with each community. They may even have ideas on who they would like to work with.”

“I was thinking along those same lines, Moira,” Erik agrees, nodding in her direction. “Emma has a great deal of connections of her own, so the two of you can work together on that.”

“Sounds good,” Moira says with a small smile.

“Anyone else have something they would like to contribute?” Charles asks, looking around the room at the others. “I’d like you all to know that you don’t have to if you wouldn’t like to. But as you’ve all gone through the programs here, as well as implemented them, we thought, after the people in the communities themselves, you’d be next people we’d want to talk to about how we can help them.”

Hank lifts a tentative hand. After a moment, as do Darwin, Sean, and Alex. Warmth filling him, Charles exchanges grins with Erik and Raven, before gesturing for the boys to speak up.

“Hank had some great ideas today,” Erik says at dinner that night. “With his mind, and all those degrees, I’m surprised he’s not doing more with them.”

Humming around his mouthful of food, Charles swallows before responding. “Ah yes, Hank is really very exceptional, the poor chap just has some self-esteem issues that have gotten in the way of his work. I was hoping asking everyone for ideas would help encourage him, make him feel less like there was pressure on him.”

“And it worked,” Erik observes. “You really know how to work with those kids.”

Charles huffs a laugh over the rim of his glass of water. “I should hope so; they were all my patients, once upon a time, and I’d like to think that they consider me something of a friend now.”

“I would say that’s your arrogance talking,” Erik says, one corner of his mouth curling in a smirk, “but from what little I’ve seen the past two weeks, it seems that they do.”

Kicking Erik lightly under the table, Charles takes a drink of his water. He hides a grin behind his napkin when Erik captures his foot between his legs and traps it there.

As they’re waiting for the waitress to come back with the check, Erik taps the back of Charles’ hand. “Come back to my flat.”

Without an ounce of hesitation, Charles says, “Okay.”

Charles is struggling to stay awake as he sprawls across Erik’s couch, head in Erik’s lap with Erik’s fingers playing with his hair. He’s completely lost track of what they had been talking about or watching or… What had they been doing? Must not have been too important, since the motion of Erik’s fingers scratching over his scalp has made his mind go completely blank. He doesn’t remember ever having been this relaxed and comfortable in his life.

Above him, Erik chuckles softly. “You’re practically purring in my head, you know.”

He hadn’t known, but Charles can’t really bring himself to stop. “Mmm… if you don’t like it, you’ll just have to stop what you’re doing, won’t you?”

“I don’t mind. It’s nice to see you so relaxed, you’re usually wound so tight that I worry about you.” Erik’s thumb makes a swipe over Charles’ temple, lightly grazing the scarring there and making Charles melt even more, if that’s possible.

It takes Charles a few moments to regain enough control of his mouth to retort, “Pot, kettle, my friend.”

“Shush you,” Erik says with another laugh, stroking over Charles’ temple again.

Giving up the semblance of conversation, Charles lets himself enjoy the moment and doze off again.

“You could still come along, you know,” Erik says as he floats his duffel bag out of the boot of Charles’ car and sets it on the sidewalk next to his feet.

Hands stuffed in his trouser pockets, Charles shakes his head as he watches the other people entering the airport at the drop-off section. “Since you and Raven convinced Hank he was the best person to ensure all the equipment he designed was installed properly, I have to take over his programs while he’s gone for the next month.”

A slight tug on his watch pulls Charles’ attention back to Erik, who lifts an eyebrow. “Surely, you’re not picking up all of them, on top of your patients? You sleep and eat little enough as it is, Charles.”

Charles can’t help huffing at that, despite the real concern he can feel radiating off of Erik. “Don’t worry, my friend, Moira will be taking half of them. The rest will be splitting Angel’s.”

“Good,” Erik hums, hooking a finger in one of Charles’ belt loops and pulling him into his space. “Can’t have you working yourself to the bone while I’m gone.”

“I did manage well enough before I met you,” Charles protests, even as he closes the last of the space between them to hook one arm around Erik’s neck.

The skepticism is thick in Erik’s mind as he hums. Rolling his eyes, Charles gives him a mental poke. This just makes Erik grin in that giant and not-at-all sexy way of his, all his teeth on display. Charles curses himself and his liquidizing knees when the sight makes him have to lean a little bit on his weight on Erik.

“I should probably head inside,” Erik says quietly, though he makes no move to remove the arm he has wrapped around Charles’ waist. “Get through security.”

“Just one thing before you go,” Charles says just as quietly before capturing Erik’s lips in a kiss.

It starts off soft but tender, their lips caressing each other. When Charles reaches out a small tendril of his mind and runs it lightly over Erik’s, Erik reacts more viscerally than Charles expected, gasping into their kiss and opening up his mind for Charles. Moaning at such a positive response, as Charles dips in below the surface, sharing his own emotions and reactions with Erik, he deepens the kiss with a nip to his bottom lip. In what seems to be retaliation, Erik moves one of his hands to cup the side of Charles’ face, two fingers coming to rest against Charles’ temple and just barely grazing the skin as they rub back and forth. Charles melts further into him and breaks off the kiss with a gasp of his own.

“If you keep that up,” Charles says, his voice rough, “I’m not going to be able to keep attention off of us any longer.”

Erik hums thoughtfully. “I didn’t realize your temples were that sensitive.”

“They’re not,” Charles huffs. “At least they weren’t until you.” He doesn’t add that he didn’t exactly let anyone else other than Raven even get close to touching his temples, not before Erik came along and just casually broke that rule.

Some of that must slip through, the connection Charles created a moment ago still open, because Erik’s mind tweaks in curiosity and a hint of anger. Wondering, not for the first time, over Charles’ many foibles and what exactly caused the scars on his temples, as well as the handful of others he has let Erik see on his limbs.

 _Another time,_ Charles whispers into Erik’s mind. _When you get back._

Silently accepting, Erik turns his head to place and kiss on Charles’ temple. “Take care of yourself while I’m gone, liebling.”

“You do the same,” Charles replies, stepping back with one last caress of his mind against Erik’s. “And let me know when you arrive.”

“Of course.” Erik picks up his duffel.

“Goodbye, darling.”

“Goodbye, Charles.”

Having the chance to run some of the programs is actually a nice change of pace for Charles. He hasn’t done so in a long time – not since the Center was just starting out and it was just him, and then a few months later when it was him and Moira. After the first year, he hired on some additional staff. Logan, surprisingly, decided to help out, though it took him a bit to get used to working with children. Betsy, Domino, and Irene also joined on for a short time as well, until Raven decided to poach them for the Foundation. Charles couldn’t fault her, though; Betsy much preferred the travel, and Irene and Domino both deserved to spread their wings more, as it were. And as sad as Moira had been to see Irene to go – the two of them often talking cryptically about timelines and probabilities when they didn’t think Charles was listening – she didn’t want to hold her friend back either.

At any rate, by the time the three women and Logan decided to leave, Charles’ first group of patients were no longer teenagers and they wanted to help others in the same way Moira and Charles helped them. Since then, Charles and Moira have both mostly been working with individual patients, their First Class, as the group liked to call themselves, taking over all the programs and classes they used to run, and adding their own.

Charles has to admit he has missed how full it made his days, having back-to-back patients to see and classes to run. It makes him tired enough that he doesn’t have as much energy as he normally would to be preoccupied with his own issues. Though it doesn’t keep him from feeling a little hurt the first week Erik is gone, when Erik only messages him sparingly. He knows, deep down, that Erik is just busy with supervising the construction, being a tyrant, according to Raven when she calls him one night. But that doesn’t stop his pesky emotions from being hurt, or his traitor heart, which has already grown an inexorable attachment to Erik in the two short months they’ve known each other.

A week and a half after Erik left, he calls, just as Charles is making himself another cup of tea.

Despite himself, Charles feels the tension in his neck and shoulders loosen, just a bit. “Hello, stranger.”

“Raven tells me you’ve been moping,” Erik says, bypassing greetings and small talk. It’s one of Erik’s traits that Charles adores.

Snorting, Charles makes his way back up to the living room, where he’s been curled up under a weighted blanket and rereading _Jane Eyre_ for the millionth time. Rochester reminds him of Erik, to a certain extent, when Erik is one of his fouler moods. “And how would Raven know if I’ve been moping?” Charles asks, not bothering to protest, as Erik is remarkably good at calling Charles on his bullshit. Sometimes, Charles would swear Erik were the telepath.

“If it helps at all,” Erik says, ignoring the rhetorical question, “Emma has berated me multiple times. She says I’ve been ‘meaner than usual’ and that if I’m just going to be a ‘grumpy, clingy asshole’ I should just leave already before I make all the workers cry and denounce me to the public as a ‘controlling despot’. And if I don’t ‘grow up’, she won’t put a kibosh on anymore rumors about me, whether or not they are true.”

Unable to hold it back, Charles laughs. He laughs so hard he has to set down his tea or risk spilling it all over himself.

On the other end of the line, Erik huffs. “Stop laughing, Charles, or you’ll spill your tea.”

Chortling, Charles wipes at his eyes, where a few tears of mirth have escaped. “I’m sorry, but it’s just so funny to imagine you making what I’m sure are strong, capable workers cry. And not to worry, the tea is safe.”

Even Charles can hear the pout in Erik’s voice when he says, “I’m not that bad.”

“Of course not, darling,” Charles placates, smiling at Erik’s ridiculousness, as he knows full well that Erik can indeed be that bad.

“What cup number is that, anyhow?” Erik asks.

Having to swallow his mouthful of tea, Charles takes a moment to respond. “Sorry, what was that?”

“How much tea have you had today, Charles?” Erik asks. When Charles doesn’t respond right away, he adds, “How about the past week? Have you gotten any sleep, eaten anything?”

“You’re giving me whiplash here, you know,” Charles quips, once again not answering Erik’s questions. “Going from making people cry to hening over me.”

“I have a Jewish mother, Charles,” Erik says, his voice exceedingly dry. “It comes with the territory. Now please tell me you’ve been taking care of yourself while Raven and I are both gone.”

“Yes, dear,” Charles says. “Moira has been keeping a constant eye on me, as she does every time Raven is out of town for an extended period.”

“Good,” Erik hums.

“You know, some people would find this very emasculating,” Charles observes.

“Good thing you’re not some people, then,” Erik snarks, making Charles smile despite himself.

“I miss you,” he admits, looking down at his free hand as it toys with a loose thread in his blanket.

His voice softer now, Erik reciprocates. “I miss you too.”

“How much longer, do you think?”

Humming, Erik seems to consider his answer. “If we continue at the pace we are, and don’t run into any issues, I’d say another month.”

Charles closes his eyes as he lets out a deep sigh. “You’d think this wouldn’t be so hard, considering this is how our friendship started.”

“But it’s different now,” Erik finishes. “I know it’s not the same, and that it can sometimes be stressful for you, but I’ll try to be better about calling you at night. Like we did before.”

“That would be lovely,” Charles says, sniffling a little bit.

“Okay,” Erik says, his voice still unbearably soft.

The next month continues in the same manner as the previous week and a half, with the exception of Erik calling every night, even if it’s only for few minutes, and texting more often. It’s usually a complaint about someone being too slow or not doing something right, or Raven flirting with everyone and distracting them from their work. Both make Charles smile down at his phone as he sends Erik some pithy or sarcastic response, as he knows those will get the biggest kick out of Erik.

In other words, everything is going reasonably well. That is, until, a few days Erik, Hank, Raven, and Angel are set to return. Moira has an emergency with a patient that she has to handle, so she can’t take Hank’s class for that afternoon. Luckily, Charles had a cancellation, so he’s able to take it in her stead.

It’s a class he used to run himself, before Hank took it over. Charles may not have gone into genetics like his father had hoped he would, but he still enjoys learning about the many variations of mutations and how they affect different aspects of people’s genetic makeup. This particular class shows the children how this one common mutation in their genes brings them all together, as well as making them all wholly unique.

The class is going as planned, Charles following the routine he used to have, with a few alterations that Hank has made. Such as showing the difference in the leucocytes of a human as compared to a shapeshifter like Raven or someone with cells that have endless reproductive abilities like Logan.

Charles is in the middle of explaining how there are huge differences even between individuals with the same mutation, such as telepathy or telekinesis, when an adult in the back of the room raises their hand.

Even though the Center is tailored for mutant children, teenagers, and in some cases young adults, mutant adults and human friends and family of all ages are allowed to attend programs and classes with their young mutant loved ones. This is an allowance that Charles has stood by since he opened the Center, as he has always hoped it would be a way to open a dialogue between mutants and humans. That it would make the situations that mutant youth are in, the situations that have led them to coming to the Center, even just a little bit easier. And for the most part, that has been the case.

Whenever he’s taught classes or led programs, Charles has the tendency to put up the highest, thickest shields he possibly can, so as not to become distracted with all the minds in such close proximity. It gives him a frightful migraine, and makes him feel muffled and disconnected, but it helps him remain focused. The only other drawback means that he is unable to tell whether an incoming question or comment is going to be harmful in any way.

Pausing, Charles indicates for the individual to go ahead with their question, hoping it is merely a curious loved one that wants something further explained.

“Dr. Xavier,” the adult mutant says, rising from their seat and letting Charles see that they are holding some sort of recording device, “is it true that you gained a great deal of your knowledge on mutations from your father, Dr. Brian Xavier, the famed geneticist that discovered and named the so-called X gene?”

Caught off guard, Charles’ shields start to slip. As he starts to feel the shock and disgust of those in the room who know the name Brian Xavier, Charles fights to keep a genial expression. “My father is Brian Xavier, yes. But I wouldn’t say he discovered the gene; he merely took the credit for it. There had been research done in the sixties --”

The journalist cuts him off. “Are the rumors true, that he and your stepfather, Kurt Marko, performed experiments on you as a child, to learn the extent of your telepathic abilities?”

Charles swallows thickly, pity wafting over him now as well. “I have never made it a secret about who my father and stepfather were. All anyone has to do is look up the name Xavier, and they will find a myriad of scientific articles and society pages.”

“But, despite your so-called mission to create a safe and inclusive world for mutants,” the reporter continues, seemingly ignoring what Charles said, “you haven’t denounced those experiments. Experiments that led to an incident in the state of New York in the late nineties, where over half of the nearly 18 million residents clutching their heads in pain before simultaneously passing out. An incident that led to hundreds of deaths.”

As the reporter speaks, it becomes more and more difficult for Charles to breathe. His chest starts to ache sharply and his vision becomes fuzzy, as his shields drop further still. Countless voices start to crowd into his head, but failing to drown out the reporter’s voice. The onslaught makes Charles stumble as he clutches at his head, gasping for breath.

“Please,” Charles rasps, squeezing his eyes shut against the splitting pain. “Please, stop.” The last vestiges of his shield quiver, just barely keeping up that last barrier that prevents all those minds he’s inadvertently connected to from feeling that pain as well.

“Why?” the reporter challenges. “The public deserves to know. We deserve to know that, despite all that power at your disposal, you did nothing to stop the work of the likes of your father and stepfather. Men whose work has harmed countless mutants throughout the world for the past twenty-seven years.”

“You need to leave,” Moira’s voice says, her anger wafting into the room and over Charles. “Now. All of you, please. The rest of this class is cancelled, thanks to whoever let a reporter in here.”

Charles latches onto Moira’s familiar mind, attempting to use it as an anchor to help him build at least a fraction of his shields back up. It doesn’t help.

A hand on Charles’ back barely registers. “What do you need, Charles?” Moira’s voice and mind say.

Letting himself collapse the rest of the way to the floor, Charles curls into a ball there, head still clutched in his hands. “Make them go away. Make the voices go away. Moira, please,” he begs, voice broken and barely there.

“Okay,” Moira says, or at least Charles thinks she does, as the next thing he knows beyond the voices and emotions and pain is the prick of a needle in his arm. Then it is blessed silence, darkness, and then nothing.

A familiar hand running through his hair, overly sharp nails scratching along his scalp, brings Charles out of the void. With the soothing sensation, other feeling starts to come back, along with sounds and his other senses. The minds around him, though, are muffled, the last of the drugs still working their way out of his system.

“Welcome back,” Raven says, her voice soft. “You had us scared there.”

“Sorry,” croaks Charles, becoming aware of how parched he is. As he drinks from the glass of water Raven brings to his lips, Charles notices that he’s propped up against a mass of pillows already. Confused, once he’s drunk his fill, Charles opens his eyes to find himself in his own bed. It’s a comfort, knowing Moira didn’t take him to hospital, though he should have known better.

Though it’s not as much of a comfort as seeing Erik sprawled out on the bed next to him, his body curled toward Charles, though the only place they’re touching is where Erik has Charles’ wrist in a firm grasp. Something in Charles loosens at the sight, though he doesn’t like the way Erik’s brow is furrowed.

“He was about ready to fly all the from Germany himself, when Jean called,” Raven says from Charles’ other side. For a moment, Charles had forgotten she was still there, her hand having extracted from his hair. It makes him feel awful, until he registers what she said.

“Jean?” he asks as he turns his head back toward her, startled, though he keeps his voice down so as not to wake Erik.

Raven sighs. “Yeah, I was just about to convince Erik to take a break for dinner when I got a call. When I answered, a little girl named Jean said she needed to speak to both me and Erik, that it was very urgent. She said that something had caused you great distress, that you were accidentally affecting half the city, though luckily you had taught her well enough that she was able to keep you out with her shields. But she said that it was very important that the two of us come home straight away because you were crying out for us.”

“Oh god…” Charles mumbles, bringing up his free hand to bury his face in it. “I don’t even know the extent of the damage I caused, all the pain and fear… And Jean. God, she’s so young, she shouldn’t have had to do that…”

“Charles, it’s okay,” Raven whispers, her voice breaking as she tugs his hand from his face and grips it between both of her own. “Moira told us what she had seen, at the tail end, and we watched the security footage. That reporter ambushed you.”

Biting his lip, Charles only just stops himself from protesting further, from saying that he should’ve been better at keeping up his shields, that he shouldn’t have reacted so viscerally to memories more than a decade old, because he knows Raven will rebuff them. Just as she has every other time in the past that he had any sort of setback. Instead, he leans his head back to sigh up at the ceiling.

“We’re going to lose all of our patients and clientele for this,” he despairs, watching the spinning of his ceiling fan. “All those children we’ve made such progress with…”

A squeeze to his hand brings his attention back to Raven, who offers him a small smile. “Actually, everyone else in that meeting came forward, explained that you had been provoked. And Moira and I both made statements. I made it especially clear that there was a reason neither of us had ever discussed our childhood with the public, and why you dissolved the company and we’ve been doing all this work all these years. That neither of us wanted anyone else to go through the pain and suffering we did. And that they should understand how damaging it can be to a person to accuse them of being complicit in their own torture. And I told them that, under no uncertain terms, should they ever try to pull something like this again.

“And I told them if they didn’t understand or they couldn’t do that, that they could kiss my ass and that they could get in contact with our lawyers.”

Sniffling a little, Charles struggles to hold in a slightly hysterical laugh. “Please tell me you used different wording for that last part.”

Raven scoffs. “Please, Charles. I know how to handle the press; my threats were as subtle as ever.” She glances over his shoulder before giving his hand a squeeze and standing up. “Now, I’m exhausted from watching over your ass for the past three days, so I’m going to go home and have the world’s longest nap.”

“Goodbye, love,” Charles says, bussing a kiss against her cheek as she leans down for a hug. “Sleep well.”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Raven whispers, hugging him tightly and giving him a kiss of his own before standing back up and leaving.

Charles waits until he hears the front door shut and lock behind her before he turns his head and finds Erik’s eyes open and looking at him.

They’re both silent, as Erik examines him closely and Charles takes him in as well. He wishes the drugs were completely out of his system, as there is nothing Charles would love more right now than to sink into Erik’s calming mind.

Though, to be fair, Erik’s mind probably wouldn’t be very calm right this moment, as the first thing he says, his voice audibly tense and shaky, “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, do you hear me?”

Chest aching, Charles turns onto his side so that they’re facing each other on the bed. Then, not saying a word, he scoots forward until he can curl himself into Erik’s body, head tucked beneath Erik’s chin. Immediately, Erik’s arms go around him, tugging him closer so their bodies are snuggly together. In the safety of Erik’s collarbone, Charles lets out a shaky wet sigh, feeling tears prick at his eyes that he had forced himself not to shed while Raven was there.

One hand rubbing circles into Charles’ back, Erik twines the other in Charles’ hair, just cupping the back of his head. “Shh…” he murmurs. “You’re okay… It’s not your fault… I’ve got you…” He continues to whisper reassurances into Charles’ hair, as Charles lets himself fall apart, just a little.

“I can’t feel you,” he mumbles brokenly into the fabric of Erik’s shirt at some point. “I hate that I can’t feel you.”

“I know, liebling,” Erik says softly in return, his hand continuing to caress over Charles’ back. “It’s an awful feeling, being disconnected from our powers. They’ll come back soon enough; last Hank said it should only be a few more hours, and that was a while ago.”

A sob forces its way out of Charles as he tries to tuck himself even further into Erik, though it’s impossible for them to get any closer than they already are, other than removing their clothes. “Erik,” he cries, gripping the back of Erik’s shirt in tight fists.

“I’m here, liebling, I’m here,” Erik reassures him. “Just a little bit longer, you can do this.” Then he starts humming a soft tune, his chest vibrating against Charles.

At some point, the song must have made Charles doze off because the next he knows the room is dark. And right there, a beacon in the night, a siren song, is Erik’s beautiful mind, calling out to Charles.

Charles wastes no time, sinking into the swirl of thoughts and emotions immediately. Together, he and Erik both let out a sigh of relief.

“There you are,” Erik whispers, his clear eyes bright in the dark as he strokes the back of his fingers against Charles’ cheek. His mind veritably sings in delight, wrapping itself around Charles’ presence in a way that no one else ever has before. “I missed you.”

Leaning into the caress, Charles’ entire body relaxes as he drinks Erik in. “I missed you too,” he breaths before bridging the scant inches between them to take Erik’s lips in a soft, lingering kiss. Into it he pours all of his gratitude, his affection, his adoration – everything. And in return, Erik sends back his own.

“I think I should make a statement,” Charles says into the silence that has reigned the since he and Erik started their chess game.

Erik pauses in the middle of making his next move, one of his knights hovering over the board. “What,” he says, tone flat as mind starts to whir, though Charles isn’t looking closely enough to hear any precise thoughts.

Chin propped in his hand and his elbow resting on the arm of his chair as they sit out on the garden patio, Charles glances up at Erik quickly before focusing back on the board. “Or maybe an interview – with a different reporter of course,” he tries to say in a conversational tone, though even to his ears it sounds too forced.

“That is out of the question,” Erik says with a humorless snort, finally moving his knight. Now Charles can feel the anger that Erik is trying to keep tamped down, not wanting stress Charles – which is the reason he’s protesting, Charles can hear. It really did scare him, seeing Charles zoned out as he was on the serum, and then seeing the way Charles reacted so viscerally when he could feel Erik’s mind again.

“I know you’re worried about me,” Charles acknowledges, bringing his gaze back up to Erik, who’s glaring at the board with his arms folded across his chest.

“You don’t owe any of them anything,” Erik interrupts before Charles can continue, shifting his glare toward Charles but not at him. “Moira and Raven have already given them more of an explanation than they deserve.”

Sighing, Charles rubs at his forehead, just over his eyebrow. “Yes, and I appreciate them both for it. But I want them all to hear from me – not the humans, or the public at large,” Charles cuts Erik’s protest off at the cuff before he can open his mouth, “but the mutants out there, children and adults, who still struggle with control. Who are afraid they may hurt their loved ones and those around them. I want them to know that even someone as supposedly respectable as I am still struggles on occasion.”

This makes Erik huff a laugh, though Charles can feel that he’s still hesitant.

“This is why I started the Center in the first place,” Charles finishes softly, offering Erik his best pleading gaze. “To show them – to show all mutants – that they are not alone.”

Charles sits, calmly waiting, as Erik turns it over in his mind. The anger is still there, as it always is, usually simmering in the background. He’s angry that Charles was put into this situation, that he feels like he has to explain himself for being triggered. Angry that Charles has triggers in the first place. Angry that there are others out there that can relate all to well with some of what Charles has been through, including Erik himself.

But intertwined with that anger is understanding. If anyone can understand why Charles wants to make amends for things he has done, in the past and the present – if there’s anyone that can understand why Charles wants to ensure no one else has grow up like he did – it’s Erik.

“All right,” Erik says, his tone grudging, just as Charles feels his mind come to a decision. “But on one condition.”

Sitting back from making his move while Erik thought, Charles lifts his eyebrows in interest. “Oh? What would that be?”

“Emma and Raven vet the reporter,” Erik answers, voice firm. “And I go with you.”

Charles feels a smirk curl his lips. “That’s two conditions.”

“Charles,” Erik veritably growls, scowling at him again.

“Yes, all right,” Charles sighs dramatically. “If you must.”

Erik’s eyes narrow. “That’s what you wanted all along, isn’t it?”

“Well, I was hoping,” Charles replies honestly. He nods toward the board. “That’s a checkmate, by the way, darling.”

Glancing down at the board, Erik swears colorfully, making Charles laugh. At the sound of Charles’ laughter, Erik melts across from him.

“Come lay in the sun with me,” he offers, indicating the last of the afternoon sunshine illuminating the garden.

“And get grass stains all over my clothes? I think not,” Charles mock protests.

Humming, Erik’s mind sparkles playful. “That’s too bad.” With that he stands and then picks Charles up in a fireman’s carry, hefting him toward the grass.

His head hanging toward Erik’s ass, Charles takes the opportunity to palm it. He expects Erik to drop him unceremoniously in retaliation. Instead, he lays Charles out carefully and then stretches his body all along him, covering Charles completely as he balances himself on his forearms.

“Don’t be a tease now, Charles,” Erik murmurs, his breath ghosting over Charles lips as he hovers bare inches away.

“Who says I was teasing?” is what Charles wants to say in that moment, but he’s not ready. Not yet. So instead he rests his arms above his head, his left hand lightly grasping his right wrist, and smirks up at Erik. “Mmm, you like it.”

“This is unfortunately true,” Erik sighs, mirth clear in his mind. After a chaste kiss to the corner of Charles’ mouth, he shifts a little before lying down with his head resting just below Charles’ sternum.

As Erik’s weight settles on top of him, Charles relaxes in a way he didn’t know he needed to – which is starting to become a pattern lately. Charles isn’t complaining though. Quite to the contrary; he shares his contentment with Erik as he moves a hand to card his fingers through Erik’s hair.

He’s stymied, however, when Erik captures his hand to place a kiss in the center of his palm and then doesn’t release it, instead tucking it in in front of his face.

“I was using that, you know,” Charles comments quietly.

“You have another,” Erik mumbles, his voice starting to slur slightly with how relaxed he is, his mind calming.

“Ridiculous man,” Charles huffs, indeed lowering his left hand to go back to toying with Erik’s hair.

Snuffling into Charles’ chest, Erik gives a little hum. “You knew that as soon as you met me.”

“Indeed, I did,” Charles agrees, unable to keep the fond smile out of his voice.

“Mm shush, now, it’s quiet time,” Erik orders, his mock sternness leaving something wanting.

“Of course, darling,” Charles murmurs, closing his own eyes and letting himself relax.

“Last chance to back out, sugar.” Emma watches her hands as she adjusts Charles’ tie and collar in miniscule ways only she can see. “You and Erik can go out there and just talk about our business partnership.”

Charles offers a small smirk. “We both know I’m not going to do that.”

Now she meets his eyes and lets him feel her respect. “Just don’t give me another migraine like you did last week, okay?”

Smile widening, Charles shakes his head with a quiet laugh. “I’ll do my best.”

“You’re sure you don’t want me out there with you?” Raven asks again, hovering like she has been every time Charles has seen her in the past week.

“I’ll be fine, Raven,” Charles reassures her once again. “Besides, you’ll be just behind the camera, right where I can see you.”

“And I’ll be right next to him if he needs anything,” Erik adds, makeup having finally finished with him. Charles smothers a grin at the way they’ve tried to make his face look softer. Nevertheless, Erik feels Charles’ mirth through the connection they’ve kept open since the serum wore off the week before. He rolls his eyes, making Charles laugh outright this time.

Emma makes a noise in the back of her throat. “You two keep that up in front of the camera and people won’t even care about a single thing you say; they’ll be too busy speculating about your relationship.”

Eyebrows raised, Erik gives her a blank look. “You say that like you didn’t know that was my plan all along.”

Before Charles can comment, he and Erik are being whisked off to be wired with microphones. This is an aspect Charles has never particularly enjoyed, as now is when he has to make sure his public, media persona is firmly in place before he goes on camera. The way Erik is feeling along the metal components of the microphones being clipped onto them, however, has a calming effect. Which, no doubt, was another one of Erik’s plans, as he sends Charles a tendril of reassurance as they receive their cue.

“And please welcome my guests tonight: Erik Lehnsherr, founder and lead engineer of Brotherhood of Mutants, Inc., and Dr. Charles Xavier, founder of and psychiatrist at the Center for Displace Mutant Youth.”

As they walk onstage to a round of applause, Charles sends Erik his gratitude and affection, all while smiling and wavy affably at the audience. Once they’re sat down and the audience as quieted, the host smiles at them both.

“Welcome to the Daily Show, gentlemen,” Trevor Noah says. “It’s a pleasure to have you both here.”

“It’s a pleasure to be here, Trevor,” Charles says with a polite smile, though he is entirely sincere. “I don’t watch much television, but yours has always been a program that I’m sure to catch.”

“Well, I imagine you’re much too busy, what with running the Center, which serves the entirety of London and all of its suburbs, and being the leading psychiatrist for psionic youth,” Trevor says, his admiration shining through, before motioning to Erik. “And now you and Mr. Lehnsherr have started up this new venture together.”

Charles laughs good-naturedly, the one he had to cultivate as a child. “Yes, that is one of the reasons, I suppose.”

“Why don’t you tell me more about this partnership that has recently started?”

Turning to Erik, Charles nudges him slightly. “Why don’t you explain it, my friend? It was initially your idea, after all.”

 _Flatterer_ , Erik huffs, making Charles’ smile turn more genuine and Erik does as he suggested. “As I’m sure you’re aware, Brotherhood of Mutants has been working the past five years to provide affordable housing to mutants in need throughout Western Europe – low income, homeless, those who had housing struggles due to discrimination, and those in any number of other situations that made finding even less than adequate housing difficult. We provide them all of the amenities – water, gas, electric, heating, central air – for livable costs that even the worst off of us can afford, with better conditions than many of them have come to expect.

“We’ve done a lot of good, but from what I’ve seen these past few years, and throughout my life, there is so much more that we can do. So I decided to reach out to the Xavier Foundation to see if they wanted to form a partnership to provide more services for these mutant communities in need.”

“Xavier Foundation is run by your sister, Raven, isn’t it, Dr. Xavier?” Trevor cuts in.

“Charles, please,” he corrects automatically. “Yes, at the same time I was creating the Center, Raven started the Foundation. She travels around the world, providing whatever help she can to mutants in need, no matter how big and small. When Erik reached out to her, she thought it would be a project I would be interested in taking part in, and so she put us in contact with each other.”

“And since then you’ve built a new center, just like the one in London, in the first community you built housing in in Dusseldorf, Germany, is that right, Mr. Lehnsherr?”

“Just finished all of the physical set-up last week,” Erik responds. “And please, it’s Erik.”

“I understand that you intend to staff these centers with people from the communities they’re built in,” Trevor comments.

“Oh yes, absolutely,” Charles gushes. “To start, some former works of the Center in London will help get things started, and I and my partner, Dr. Moira McTaggert, have some colleagues that have agreed to help out as well. But one of our goals for these centers is to provide not only safe havens for mutants to go where they can be themselves, but also provide jobs.”

“These are communities, Trevor,” Erik picks up, “where many have been unable to hold steady, well-paying jobs, whether it’s due to their previous living circumstances, their mutations, or any other reason. They have been allowed to suffer because of the society we live in today, one that favors the human majority.”

As Erik speaks, Charles takes a moment to bask in his pure passion.

“Which is why the work you both are doing is so admirable,” Trevor says. “There are so many mutants out there that need people like you, all over the world. As I’m sure you both, and Raven as well, have seen for yourselves.”

“That is why, once we build these centers in the areas BoM has already built, we’re going to be expanding,” Charles explains. “We’d like to work with other companies and communities out there, throughout the rest of Europe, the Middle East, Asia, Australia, the Americas – everywhere. We want to do everything we possibly can to help as many mutants as feasible, and more.”

“And this is all being financially backed by the Xavier Foundation and yourself, Charles.”

Charles nods. “Yes, Raven and I both inherited a frankly ridiculous amount of money once my mother passed, money that we both felt we did not earn, and thus want to put to good use. That’s why we started the Foundation and the Center in the first place. But this way, we can help even more people in the long run.”

“Won’t you eventually run out of money?” Trevor reasonably asks, shock evident. “What will you do then?”

“As I said, it’s a ridiculous amount of money,” Charles deadpans, making a few in the audience chuckle a little, “so it will take quite a bit. But when we do,” he pauses with a shrug, “it will have gone to people much more deserving of it.

“And who knows, hopefully by then I’ll be happily retired, a husband there to look after my needs.” This makes the audience laugh some more, while Erik sends him the mental equivalent of a raised eyebrow.

 _Who said I would be taking care of you?_ Erik asks. _I thought you would be looking after me in our old age._

Charles chooses to only respond with a wave of tenderness for now, slightly overcome by Erik’s assumption that Charles was talking about him.

Trevor laughs with the audience. “Here’s hoping.

“Now, you mentioned you and Raven felt you hadn’t earned the money.”

“That is the definition of an inheritance, Trevor,” Erik snarks, making Charles have to smother a snort as well as the urge to smack his arm. Instead, he has to do with sending the mental equivalent before speaking up himself.

“While Erik has a point,” Charles starts drily, side eyeing him and making the audience laugh again, “there is, admittedly, a bit more to it than that.”

“What do you mean?” Trevor asks, his curiosity genuine. This is the part of the interview he hasn’t been thoroughly prepped for.

Taking a deep mental breath, Charles prepares himself for the difficult part of the evening. Beneath the desk, Erik reaches a hand over to squeeze Charles’ knee, the weight an added comfort to the waves of support Charles can feel from him, as well as Raven and Emma.

“Everybody was familiar with the name Xavier far before Raven and I can onto the scene,” Charles responds, voice sober now. “Especially mutants. Brian Xavier, my father, along with my step-father, Kurt Marko, made a fortune on their ‘discovery’ of the ‘x’ gene, as well as the pioneering of the mutant gene suppressant serum and the start of research into psionic mutations in particular.”

This time, Charles needs to physically take a deep breath before he can continue, though he’s able to stop himself from closing his eyes, too aware of the minds of the audience and crew around him. “What people do not know, however, is how their research started, or how they were able to achieve all of their so-called breakthroughs.

“That is because, from my infancy, my father and Kurt Marko studied my DNA, my mutation, and experimented on me.”

As Charles finishes his sentence, he is swamped with the thoughts and emotions from every person in the room. Shock, anger, disgust, pity, sadness – it would all be an overwhelming flood if it weren’t Erik. That beautiful, shiny mind anchors him as Erik pushes aside his own anger to instead focus on buoying up Charles.

From there, Charles wishes he could say everything was a blur as he goes into a little more detail about his father and Kurt’s experiments – being used as a test subject for the suppressant as they developed it and being forced to learn how to function without his telepathy and empathy, learning the scopes of his abilities and forcing him to use the household staff as test subjects – and everything he did to protect Raven from them. Unfortunately, one of the downsides of his mutation is that he has an eidetic memory, and thus remembers every single moment. (Unless he dissociates, but he’s far too aware for that right now.) Not just as he experiences it either, but as everyone in the studio reacts to his life story as well. Only the presences of Raven, who was there for much of it, and Erik, who seems to only admire his ability to survive it all, help Charles to make it through the rest of the interview.

Once he’s done speaking, Charles feels himself start to slip, his shields barely continuing to hold. Erik’s hand on his knee and mind against his help Charles keep that last bit of control through his mechanical thanks and farewells. After they’ve moved off camera, he lets himself collapse into Erik’s side, Erik’s reflexes only just fast enough to catch him, his arms wrapping around Charles’ waist.

“I’d like to go home now,” Charles mumbles into Erik’s shoulder.

“I can call Azazel, if you’d like,” Erik offers, his voice quiet as one hand cups the back of Charles’ head and the other caresses his back.

Before Charles can protest the thought of Erik moving away to make a call, Raven replies, “Don’t worry, I can do that.”

“Thank you,” Erik says, speaking for Charles as well, as he’s too tired to speak aloud and thank her himself just this moment.

Raven, familiar to such episodes, places a kiss on Charles’ temple before moving away from them to call Azazel.

“I’ll keep an eye on things,” Emma speaks up, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “You both take some time to yourselves; you deserve it and you’re going to need it.”

“Thank you, Emma,” Erik speaks for both of them again. “Let me know if there’s anything we need to take care of ourselves immediately.”

“Of course,” Emma says, and with that Charles feels her move away.

Just a few moments later, Azazel teleports in nearby. “Normally, I would protest to being used as a taxi service, especially so soon after the last time, but you two get another pass.”

“Much appreciated,” Erik says, voice dry, though Charles can hear his gratitude loud and clear.

“It is no trouble,” Azazel says, and while Charles struggles with the minds of telepaths, he can hear the sincerity behind Azazel’s assurances. With that, Azazel teleports the three of them back to Charles’ home in London. After they arrive, Raven gives Charles another kiss and a promise to come back to check on him in a day, she and Azazel make their way out, leaving Erik and Charles alone.

“Let’s go to bed, liebling,” Erik says softly, leading them to the bedroom.

 _Thank you_ , Charles says, mumbling even in their minds, as he attempts to undress.

 _Anytime, Charles_ , Erik replies, gently moving Charles’ hands out of the way to pull off Charles’ clothes, and then his own. Once they’re both undressed, he tucks them both in, curling his body around Charles’.

Letting out a deep sigh, Charles relaxes back into Erik’s hold and lets himself drift off.

“You know, I’ve never hated being right so much before.”

Charles looks up from his book and over at Erik, sitting on the other end of the sofa in the living room, his phone levitating in front of him while his hands absentmindedly massage Charles’ feet in his lap. There is a pensive, regretful tone to his thoughts that Charles hasn’t felt before. Even if he couldn’t hear Erik’s reactions to the article he’s reading, that tone would let him know the contents.

In fact, as Erik has been reacting to the articles he’s been reading for the past hour, Charles hasn’t been able to help but agree with a great deal of his comments. Particularly the ones about how there are more important things to be worrying about than his own past.

Humming thoughtfully, Charles turns back to his book. “Well, there’s a first time for everything, darling.”

“Come on, Charles,” Erik says in a cajoling tone, running a light finger over the top of one of Charles’ feet. “I know you agree with me – I’ve been able to feel your reactions right along with my own.”

“Yes, Erik,” Charles sighs, closing his book around a finger to look at Erik properly. “I agree that the media should be focusing on any number of things, and not any aspects of my person, past and present, or speculating about the nature of our relationship. But, as you said, we knew this would happen --”

“That does mean I like that they’re talking about you in this way,” Erik interrupts, the anger that’s been simmering in the background of his mind coming forward. “Some of them are accusing you of being a willing participant, much like that reporter who accosted you – who is lucky Moira handled them, and not me, by the way.”

Charles offers a pained smile. “Nothing less than what I expected, I’m afraid. It’s why I never talked about it in the first place.”

Erik snorts. “I do love it when you join me in my cynicism, liebling.”

 _Shh_ , Charles says with a slight laugh. _Go back to your mental arguments with the articles, I’m trying to read._

“I believe I’m done with these trite simpletons for the day,” Erik says, setting aside his phone. “I’m going for a run, if you would like to join me.” As Charles starts to open his mouth to remind him he’s reading, Erik continues. “Some exercise will do us both some good. We’ve been shut in this house for two weeks; we both need some fresh air and to get our minds off of everything.”

“Yes, all right,” Charles capitulates with another sigh, setting aside his book and standing up. Once Erik is standing as well, Charles pulls him into a kiss. “You’re amazing, for being here with me through all of this.”

Stroking Charles cheeks with the back of his hand, Erik offers Charles a soft smile. “I know.”

“Ass,” Charles laughs, more genuinely this time, shoving Erik slightly before heading downstairs to get changed into some workout clothes.

“One of my many charms, I’ve been told,” Erik says as he follows behind.

Even as he rolls his eyes, Charles can’t help but agree.

By the time a month has passed, Charles still hasn’t returned to the Center, as the media is still focusing their attentions on him, and the implications of a mutant such as him treating young mutants. Some of the human parents have requested their children be switched to Moira, and Charles tries not to fault them that, though it is hard sometimes. (Erik, on the other hand, is staunchly unforgiving in his opinions of them.) Others are sticking with him, understanding of his struggles and his need for a leave of absence. Charles is particularly surprised by the support the Greys have shown him, considering he put Jean in such an impossible situation that day. But they assure him that they’ve seen how good it has been for Jean, having someone who is intimately familiar with growing up with such a strong affinity for telepathy.

Despite such support from families like the Greys, and his first class, Charles is reluctant to return just yet. He doesn’t want his presence to affect the children in any way. Still, he wants to do what he can to help.

“We were planning on starting the next center in Bruges the week after next,” Erik says during dinner one night. “Why don’t you join us?” He nudges Charles’ foot with one of his own beneath the dining room table. “C’mon, Professor, get your hands a little dirty.”

Huffing at Erik’s little smirking taunt, Charles admits, “I was considering joining you on at least one of these builds.”

“And this is the perfect opportunity.”

As he chews his mouthful of falafel, Charles really thinks about it. He’s felt useless this past month, waiting for all the media attention to die down so that he can get back to helping his patients. He knows Moira and the others have it all in hand – he’s fully aware of what they’re all capable of – he’s just never been very good with leisure time. The vagaries of his youth attest to that, even if he wasn’t exactly idle by normal teenage standards. So, getting out of the house finally would be a good change of pace, as he expects there’s only so much Erik is willing to put up with. And he really would like to help with starting up at least one of the centers.

Across the table, Erik lets out a little growl. “I haven’t been ‘putting up with’ anything,” he asserts, their food moved to the side as he leans forward, arms spread flat on the table as he physically and mentally commands Charles’ attention, which is given willingly. “Charles, there is nothing about you that I do not relish about you – even the things that frustrate me to no end, such as your optimism about humanity, I would never want to change because they are a part of you.”

Reaching across the table, Erik grips Charles’ hands in both of his, looking deep in his eyes and sending Charles a wave of reassurance and affection. “So what if we have to deal with bullshit like this ridiculous media frenzy. They can all go fuck themselves for all I care – as long as you are safe, happy, and healthy, that’s all that matters.”

Bottom lip between his teeth, Charles attempts to smother a smile, though he knows it’s useless, as he’s radiating joy. “And you said in the beginning that you were bad at this sort of thing,” he quips, giving Erik’s hands a squeeze, “when you’re constantly proving yourself wrong with things like this.”

“Maybe you bring out the best in me,” Erik says in a dry tone, face straight. Charles, though, can feel the sincerity of the statement and it sends a thrill through him.

“And you, me, my friend,” Charles says in return, offering Erik a fond smile that is answered in kind.

Charles is in the middle of a rather good sex dream – the first one he’s had in longer than he can remember – featuring a strap-on and a very enthusiastic Erik when he is rudely interrupted by the ringing of his phone. Underneath him, Erik’s chest vibrates on a groan.

“Tell whoever it is to fuck off or I’ll pull all of the iron out of their blood,” he grumbles, using his powers to levitate Charles’ phone over from the bedside table.

Fumbling at the screen without opening his eyes, Charles swipes the answer button. “This better be bloody important or I will make you think you’re a contortionist with a bad itch right in that spot between your shoulder blades that you just can’t normally reach,” he mumbles, voice a bit muffled by his mouth still being half smashed into Erik’s chest. He’s too sleepy, and too pissed that such a good dream was interrupted, to be polite, so the tiny part of him that is polite and professional at this hour hopes that it’s not a patient or parent of a patient calling.

The person on the other end of the line gives a startled laugh. “I have to say, that is the most creative threat I’ve received in a long time, so congratulation, Dr. Xavier.”

“Glad to be of service,” Charles rasps, Erik’s irritation mixing with his own and shortening his temper. “Now if you could please get to the point, before I hunt you down and make good on that promise, as you have interrupted a rather good dream and I would like to get back to it.”

“My apologies,” the person says. “I’ve always been terrible at figuring out time differences and I didn’t realize how late it was there – or how early, rather.”

Beneath him, Erik’s irritation starts to morph into anger. Though Charles can’t blame him in the least – he’s becoming rather angry himself – he still wraps a tendril of his mind around Erik’s, helping them anchor each other before either or both of them do something they might regret.

On the other end of the line, the person who still has yet to introduce themselves continues on, blithely unaware. “You see, I recently heard about the venture you and Erik Lehnsherr have created, and I thought I would see if you had anyone lined up on the US West Coast. Y’know, to help with finding locations, sourcing materials, all that jazz.”

Struggling to keep ahold of himself, Charles lets out an explosive sigh. “That is nice of you to offer, and I’m sure I would like to discuss this further, at a more appropriate time. Why don’t you leave a measure with the Xavier Foundation, or with Brotherhood of Mutants, and we’ll get back to you at our earliest convenience, all right?”

“Sounds good!” they say in a far too chipper voice.

“Great,” Charles says, not caring how insincere he sounds right now. “And next time you find the phone number of a physician that says it is to be used for emergencies only, listen to that direction.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” the person starts to say. Charles doesn’t hear the rest, however, as he hangs up and tosses his phone over the side of the bed.

“I really hope they don’t end up being useful or helpful in any way,” Erik mumbles after a moment, “because as soon as we meet them, I may not be held responsible for my own actions as I enact revenge.”

Charles snorts tiredly, patting Erik’s chest with his now-free hand. “Now, now, darling,” Charles murmurs, the pats turning into small caresses. “You’ll have to wait in line – I wasn’t kidding about that dream.”

Erik hums in interest, his arm around Charles’ waist tightening briefly. “You’ll have to tell me about it in the morning, I’d love to hear it.”

Humming in return, Charles feels himself start to drift off again. “I might even share it with you, if you’re good.”

“We both know that’s never going to happen then,” Erik quips on a yawn as his mind starts to drift back into sleep as well, but unable to surrender without having the last word.

Charles lets him have it, and decides to wait to share the dream with Erik another time, once he’s surer that he’s ready for that.

Joining Erik for the construction of the new center in Bruges turns out to be just what Charles needed. It gets his mind off of all the anxiety-inducing events of the past month and half, as he allows himself to be ordered around, helping out with any of the physical labor that he can. The added bonus is that he’s so exhausted by the end of the day, that sleep comes more easily.

Plus, Erik is enjoying seeing this more physical side of him. At the end of the first day, when they get back to their hotel room, Erik pulls him into a searing kiss.

“God, I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” Erik gasps once he breaks the kiss, his hands still cupping Charles’ face.

“I know,” Charles pants, relishing the feeling of Erik leaning more of his weight into him than he usually does. “I could hear you thinking about it, lusting after me. Especially when I was bent over, helping tear out of the floors.”

Erik lets out a pleased hum as his hands make their way down to grip Charles’ ass, a smirk spreading itself over his face. “Maybe if you didn’t have such a sweet ass, I wouldn’t have gotten so distracted,” he says, giving said ass a squeeze that Charles sways into, making Erik’s smirk widen into one of his full-toothed grins. “Why do you hide all these lovely muscles under so many layers, Charles? I knew that they were there, I’ve felt them, but it’s another thing entirely to see them in action. And why have you never invited me to join you at the gym, hmm?”

A snort forces its way out of Charles throat. “Please, Erik, I have enough trouble tuning out the lascivious thoughts of the other patrons at the gym. I don’t need you there distracting me with yours, when you know it’s just about impossible for me to ignore you.”

Grin even more pleased now, Erik lifts an eyebrow in question. “You didn’t seem too distracted today.”

“That’s because I was focusing on _why_ we’re renovating this building,” Charles huffs with a roll of his eyes. “I would not have that luxury elsewhere.”

“True enough,” Erik acquiesces, moving his hands up to stroke along Charles’ back. “Still, I love getting to see new aspects of you like this. I’m learning something new about you all the time, it seems.”

“I hope that’s a good thing,” Charles comments.

“Of course,” Erik reassures, drawing Charles into another, softer kiss, though no less passionate than the one a few minutes earlier.

The next two months are spent in much the same manner, as they continue to renovate the building that will be the new center for mutants in Bruges. Once the renovations are done, the locals they had been in contact with about running the center come in and start setting up, Charles and Angel (who Raven swiped for the Foundation as the liaison for helping the new centers get started) giving pointers here and there. For the most part, though, the locals do the rest of the work themselves, as Erik and Charles wanted. A colleague of Charles’ who lives in nearby will be coming in frequently as a guest physician, while they search for more permanent medical professionals, but the rest of the staff are all mutants who live in Bruges.

Once the locals have gotten things in hand for the set-up, Charles and Erik make their way back home. They leave on the last train back to London, and after a few delays by the time they get home it’s about quarter ‘til eleven. Charles, however, is far too wired to get ready for bed just yet, despite putting his body through more rigorous work the past eight weeks.

“Why don’t we do something to calm you down, then?” Erik suggests, sitting on the edge of the bed in only his trousers.

Humming thoughtfully, Charles turns from where he’s been pulling their clothes out of their bags and throwing them in the laundry. “What did you have in mind?”

Instead of answering verbally, Erik tugs lightly at Charles’ watch, pulling him toward the bed. Taking the hint, Charles walks across the room and comes to a stop between Erik’s spread legs. When he gets there, Erik wraps his large hands around Charles’ hips, and in turn Charles lets his hands rest on Erik’s shoulders. Like this, Charles is taller than Erik, which always throws yet thrills Charles.

Using his hold on Charles’ hips, Erik tugs him forward until Charles’ knees hit the side of the bed and their chests come together. Their faces a scant few inches apart, Erik bridges the gap with a soft, slow kiss. As they kiss, Erik’s mind twines around Charles’ through the low-level connection they have these days, pulling Charles further in with the ease of a telepath. It makes Charles let out a tiny moan before he breaks off.

“You are, without a doubt, the most amazing person I have ever met,” Charles says, slightly breathless. “You’re constantly surprising me, and that’s just one of the reasons I have found myself falling in love with you.”

As Erik’s eyes search Charles’ face, Charles can feel the jumble of his emotions just before Erik leans in and captures his lips in a passionate kiss. Into it, they both pour all of their feelings, everything they haven’t yet said to each other and everything they have. Charles uses the opportunity Erik has given him, by bringing their minds closer together than ever, to allow them to not only share thoughts and emotions, but to share each other’s senses as well. The sudden flow of sensations makes the both of them gasp, as it becomes a feedback loop.

Erik pulls back then, moving a hand up from where it had been gripping at Charles’ hip to lay it over Charles’ cheek. “I love you too.”

Making a sound that he refuses to acknowledge is a whine, Charles recaptures Erik’s lips as he arches into him. With the movement, Erik’s hands seem to automatically shift to grasp at Charles’ ass, squeezing and bringing their groins closer together. It’s exactly what Charles was hoping for, and he knows Erik can feel his approval and arousal when he moans into the kiss.

“Are you sure?” he murmurs between kisses. “You’ve good reasons to wait, I don’t want you to feel like you have to force yourself just because -”

“Please, Erik,” Charles interrupts. “The man I love just told me he loves me back. Am I cured of my depression and all my other issues? No, and I never will be. But I’m tired of letting them hold me back. So yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay,” Erik whispers, capturing Charles’ lips in another slow kiss. He keeps it soft, slow, and searching, even as Charles tries to harden it, the sheer tenderness overwhelming. After a few minutes of Charles struggling to change the tempo, Erik pulls back with a small laugh.

“Slow down, Charles,” he says, one hand moving back up to Charles’ face to stroke a thumb over his cheekbone. “Take a deep breath, liebling. Let’s take our time, yeah?”

Doing as Erik suggests, Charles takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Right, you’re right. Sorry,” he says with a bit of a grimace. “Guess I’m a little nervous.”

“That’s okay,” Erik says softly. “I’m a little bit nervous myself.” And if Charles focuses, he can feel Erik’s nerves, a little thread mixed in with the love, arousal, happiness, and excitement. This reassures Charles a bit, that he’s not alone in the tumult of emotions.

“So utterly lovely,” Charles whispers, leaning in and recapturing Erik’s lips in what starts out as another soft yet tender kiss. This time, it steadily heats up, as Charles’ hands start to wander, running over Erik’s shoulders and chest before adventuring down his back. He stops there with a small groan, breaking off to complain. “Stand up, I can’t reach your ass like this.”

After Charles broke off the kiss, Erik had moved down to mouth at Charles’ neck, licking and nipping along its length. Here, he laughs against the skin. “So demanding,” he quips, though he does stand up from the bed.

Having free reign now, Charles happily moves his hands down the rest of the way to Erik’s ass, where Charles grips each cheek and brings their groins close together. As he does this, he grinds into Erik, inserting a thigh between Erik’s to grind up into where he can feel Erik starting to harden.

Erik practically growls at this, tearing his mouth away to trail nips and kisses across Charles’ jaw and just underneath to Charles’ pulse point, where he places a sharper bite that he soothes with his tongue before moving further down. Tugging aside Charles’ collar, he bites down on the juncture between neck and shoulder, pulling a moan out of Charles, who continues to grip at Erik’s ass, almost massaging the cheeks in his hands. The noise seems to spur Erik on, as he brings their lips together again while he sets to work on unbuttoning Charles’ shirt.

Humming his approval, Charles lets go of Erik and pulls back enough to pull his shirt off once Erik is done unbuttoning it, tossing it aside. Before Erik can start in on his undershirt as well, Charles tugs Erik’s polo out of his trousers and up and over his head. Compulsively licking and biting his lower lip, Charles gives another appreciate hum.

“I will never get tired of looking at you,” he muses, pleasantly surprised as always by how much arousal deepens his voice.

Smirk firmly in place, Erik reaches forward to tug on Charles’ hips. “How about we even the score here?” He’s not demanding; he’s genuinely asking if Charles is okay with taking his final upper layer off, something that Charles still has yet to do with him.

Confidence boosted by the love and acceptance he can feel from Erik, Charles takes a deep breath and takes off his undershirt, tossing it in the direction of his other shirt. He forces himself not to cross his arms over his chest and stomach to hide his scars, letting Erik look his fill. Anxiety begins to tighten his chest and throat as Erik looks at him, in spite or perhaps because of the appreciation and hunger he can still feel coming off of Erik. Erik seems to realize this, or Charles is projecting it into their connection, as his eyes move back up to Charles’ face and he offers a tender smile.

“Perfection,” he says, as if it’s so simple and obvious. When Charles opens his mouth to protest out of habit, Erik silences him with a small shake of his head. “You fought for this body, this one that was truer to how you felt. That’s amazing, especially after everything you’ve been through.”

Eyes watering, Charles pulls Erik into another tender kiss, letting Erik feel the jumble of his emotions that he can’t properly put into words, every single time Erik says something of that ilk, instead of the watered-down ones Charles usually lets him feel. It’s overwhelming, the love Charles feels from and for this man.

“The feeling is mutual,” Erik murmurs, throwing Charles off, as he forgot he had opened their connection enough to let through thoughts. “It’s okay, I like knowing what you’re thinking and feeling.”

That makes an idea pop in Charles’ head, one that he’ll implement once they get going. “Mm, good to know.”

After that, they both shed their own trousers, boxers, and socks, Charles just down to his packer and its harness.

Once Erik is completely naked, Charles takes everything in – including that absolutely gorgeous cock of his. He’d always had a notion of its size when Erik wore tighter trousers, or those mornings they woke up pressed close, but to actually see it is another thing entirely. Now that he’s seen it, he’s not sure what he wants to do with it first.

“Charles,” Erik interrupts his train of thought, laughter clear in his voice. “As flattering as that is, I would like to know what it is you would like to do.”

Humming thoughtfully, Charles steps close and grabs ahold of Erik’s cock, giving it a squeeze that pulls a moan out of him. “What I would like you to do,” he says lowly, lips brushing against Erik’s, “is for you to fuck me.”

Moaning again, Erik crashes their lips together. He spins them around so that Charles’ back is to the bed and directs Charles to lie down, where Erik stretches out over top of him, braced on his forearms. There, Erik places one last kiss on Charles’ lips before slowly moving down his body, placing a trail of kisses. When he gets near Charles’ mastectomy scars, he pauses and looks up at Charles, checking in. After Charles gives him a nod, Erik kisses along the scars, first one and then the other. Much like their first night together, the attention gives him mixed feelings. Blessedly, the tingles it sends through him are overwhelmingly pleasant. He arches into the sensation, one of his hands inserting itself into Erik’s hair and gripping tight.

Once he’s done with Charles’ chest, Erik licks and nips his way further down until he reaches Charles’ packer. He takes ahold of the straps around Charles’ hips and slowly drags the harness down Charles’ legs, trailing kisses along the way. After it’s off, Erik moves back up until he’s hovering over Charles’ dick. Instead of paying it any attention, though, he bypasses it and heads for Charles’ folds. Gripping Charles’ thighs, Erik shifts Charles’ legs until they’re spread wide, his feet planted flat on either side of Erik’s shoulders. Now having better access, he lightly tongues at Charles’ folds until he gets the reaction he was looking for, Charles’ hips lifting to get more attention as he feels his dick throbbing.

“Erik,” Charles groans, tugging at his hair to get his attention, “quit being a tease.”

Smirking widely, Erik licks his way up to finally give attention to Charles’ dick, suckling at it delicately. A keen forces its way up through Charles’ throat as his other hand joins the first in gripping tightly at Erik’s hair, intent on keeping Erik where he is until he gets Charles off. Erik seems to be all for that plan, as the manhandling makes him groan and redouble his efforts. The groan sends a vibrating sensation through Charles’ dick, bringing him that much closer. Sensing that, Erik hums and pulsates his tongue until Charles comes with a loud, broken moan, twitching against Erik’s mouth as Erik continues to work him to completion.

Oversensitive, Charles drops down to the bed, spent for the moment. That doesn’t stop a flare of affectionate arousal from coursing through him when Erik lifts his head to reveal hair standing on end, a messy face, and a wide, tooth-filled grin – the carefree smile that always makes Charles melt.

“That what you were looking for?” Erik asks as he crawls back up the length of Charles’ body.

Charles hums. “For now,” he pants, still a bit out of breath. Reaching up, he wipes a smear of ejaculate from the ginger scruff on Erik’s chin. “God, you being a mess like this should not be as hot as it is.”

Chuckling, Erik leans down to capture Charles’ lips in an equally messy kiss. Charles moans around Erik’s tongue in his mouth, sucking off the taste of himself. As they kiss, Charles starts to come down a bit and takes notice of Erik’s cock against his hip, especially once Erik starts gently rocking his hips, seeking friction.

“Need something, my friend?” Charles says innocently, breaking off the kiss.

Erik huffs a laugh. “Now who’s the tease?”

Laughing, Charles motions to the right bedside table. “Lube is in the top drawer.”

“Condoms too?” Erik asks, stretching across the bed to pull open the drawer.

“Ah no, I haven’t needed any, so…” Charles trails off.

Coming back with the tube of lube, Erik sits back on his haunches. “Charles -”

“It’s fine,” Charles interrupts. “I’m clean and I trust you.”

“That’s not -” Erik breaks himself off with a huff. “Can’t you still…”

Knowing where Erik is going with this, Charles shakes his head. “No. No, my stepfather took care of that. Oh, he enjoyed studying my mutation and running experiments, but he did not want me to have the ability to pass my ‘aberration’ onto anyone else. Just one of Kurt Marko’s little gifts for me.”

Erik’s eyes search Charles’ face, but for once he doesn’t feel vulnerable or self-conscious. When Erik’s reaction is to lean back down and place a soft kiss over the scars on Charles’ temple, Charles closes his eyes and leans into it.

“If you’re sure, liebling,” Erik says softly against his skin. “Just give me the word if you change your mind.”

“Of course, darling,” Charles murmurs, turning his head to bring their lips together again.

These kisses stay soft and tender, even as Erik takes lubed fingers and starts prepping Charles. As Erik’s fingers brush against Charles’ walls, grazing his g-spot every now and then, Charles’ arousal slowly builds back up until his hips are lifting off the bed. Once he’s loose and whining for more stimulation, Erik pulls out his fingers and lubes up his cock.

“Last chance,” Erik whispers. “We don’t have to do this. I would be happy with anything else you want to do.”

Hands cradling Erik’s face, Charles says, “I love you for doublechecking that I’m okay with this. But if you don’t fuck me right now, I will throw you out of this bed so fast.”

“I read you loud and clear,” Erik laughs. “Just one last request before I do.”

“Yes, darling?” Charles sighs, making sure Erik feels his ~~affectionate~~ exasperation.

Erik’s smile widens. “If you’re comfortable with it, I want you to lower your shields. Let me feel what you’re feeling, like you did briefly earlier.”

This request makes Charles’ heart skip a beat even as he moans helplessly. Lurching up, he pulls Erik into a sloppy kiss, doing as he asked and letting Erik feel not just how happy and turned on that makes him, but also how his arousal feels, how it feels to be kissing Erik and be covered by him nearly head to toe. In return, Charles also lets himself feel everything Erik is feeling, creating that lovely feedback loop again.

Spurred on by his request being so wholeheartedly fulfilled, Erik takes hold of himself to line up and steadily inserts himself, giving Charles the opportunity to adjust if he needs to. Charles doesn’t need more than a few seconds before he has one foot firmly planted and the other leg wrapped around Erik’s thigh to give himself more traction. Taking this cue as it is, Erik starts moving. As the sensations loop through them, it doesn’t take them long to start thrusting in earnest, panting into each other’s mouths more than kissing.

Wanting to push Erik over the edge before he gets his second orgasm, Charles gives a little nudge and makes it feel like Erik’s prostate is being stroked. It does the trick, Erik giving a broken, keening moan as he comes. Charles gasps, losing his breath as he’s overloaded with sensations, his walls spasming around Erik’s cock as he comes again. Erik fucks him through it until they both become oversensitive.

As Erik pulls out and collapses on top of him, Charles cuts off the feedback loop so they’re only sharing what thoughts and feelings they want to, as they usually do. The weight of Erik on top of him, his face tucked into Charles’ neck, is more comforting than Charles was expecting; it makes him feel safe and cared for.

“I can move if you need me to,” Erik mumbles, his voice half muffled as he speaks into Charles’ neck, lips grazing his skin. “I’m aware I’m not exactly light.”

“Don’t you dare,” Charles orders, tightening the leg he still has around one of Erik’s and wrapping an arm around his waist, his other hand running through Erik’s hair.

The puff of air against his neck as Erik huffs a laugh tickles slightly, making Charles shiver. “Good because I don’t feel like moving.”

Laughing softly, Charles presses a kiss to Erik’s hair and shuts his eyes, a content smile on his face as Erik places an answering kiss to his neck.

A distant voice and familiar mind pull Charles from a deep sleep, as his mind attempts to piece the two together. Too tired and too close to dropping back off, Charles doesn’t wonder why he woke up beyond mild curiosity. Instead, he merely rolls onto his side to wrap himself around Erik, snuffling against the back of his neck. Then, just as Charles is drifting back asleep, a voice startles him completely awake.

“Oh my god, you’re still asleep?” Raven demands. “And close the door if you’re going to fall asleep naked, you fucking perverts.”

“I think you’ll find that we were home alone when we fell asleep,” Erik retorts as he rolls onto his back, Charles having sat up at this point, and gives a long stretch. He gives a pleased grunt when several joints pop loudly. “And I don’t think you have any ground to stand on, considering you’re naked half the time yourself.”

“Why’re you here, Raven?” Charles asks around a yawn, sorely tempted to lie back down as Erik continues to lounge in the bed next to him, arms folded overtop of his head on the pillow. Obviously, Erik can feel this, as the contentment he’s radiating intensifies. In retaliation, Charles kicks him beneath the sheet.

Instead of answering his question, Raven folds her arms over her chest. “Why aren’t either of you answering your phones?”

Erik huffs. “I turned them both off last night to give us some peace and quiet.”

This is news to Charles. “You did?” he asks, looking at Erik with raised brow. “When did you do that?”

“When you got up to use the bathroom,” Erik answers, not one ounce of regret or apology in his mind, despite having done this without checking with Charles first, knowing Charles tends to keep his phone on in case of emergency.

Charles isn’t angry, however. In fact, it was rather sweet of Erik. It’s not like he has that many patients left at the moment that Moira or others aren’t filling in on. And Charles really is bad at setting boundaries, such as time to himself that isn’t interrupted by work. He’s honestly surprised nobody has tried something like this before now.

“Yes, yes, it’s all very sweet,” says Raven with an exaggerated role of her eyes, “but I’ve been trying to get ahold of you both for the past two hours now.”

Eyebrows lifting again, Charles gives in to temptation halfway and leans back into the pillows miraculously still piled against the headboard. Once he’s settled, his hand automatically moves to start playing with Erik’s hair, which has gotten longer in the two months they’ve been gone, a hint of a curl to the strands making itself known. “Really, what time is it?”

“Ten o’clock,” she answers, lifting a red brow at them. “Which is why I’m shocked you’re both still in bed, even if neither of you are working today.”

“Yes, well, we got in later than we planned,” Charles retorts.

Raven’s other eyebrow joins the first. “Even with a couple hours delay, you still would have gotten home before midnight, and you guys aren’t that old yet.”

“Thank you for that, Raven,” Charles snorts. “If you must know, we were awake into the early hours of the morning, hence sleeping in, however unintentionally.”

A grin spreads across Raven’s face as she seems to come to a realization. “Oh my god, you guys finally had sex! Charles! I’m so proud of you!”

“Yes, we’re all very happy,” Erik grumbles, opening his eyes, though Charles hadn’t noticed he had closed them again. Must have happened when he started playing with Erik’s hair; he’s not as viscerally affected as Charles, but he still basks in the attention like a pleased cat. “Now could you either tell us what is so important or get out.”

“Oh!” she exclaims, coming back to herself. “I was just wondering if you guys wanted to grab breakfast – well, brunch, now. You know, catch up. I’ve missed you both.”

When Erik starts contemplating throwing something at Raven for such an inane explanation, Charles tugs at his hair slightly.

“Brunch would be lovely,” Charles says. “Why don’t you let us clean up and get dressed and we’ll be upstairs in a bit?”

“Okay,” Raven says with a grin, and a disturbing wink at Erik, before heading up the stairs to the ground floor proper.

Letting out a groan, Erik scrubs at his face with both hands. “Your sister is going to be the death of me.”

“You’re the one who decided to become friends with her,” Charles responds, getting out of bed and having a nice stretch of his own finally. “If you had asked me beforehand, I would have cautioned you about such behavior.”

“Not that it would’ve done any good,” Erik sighs, standing up as well and coming around to Charles’ side of the bed to wrap an arm around Charles’ waist and pull their bodies together. “Even if she and I hadn’t become friends, she’s still your sister and therefore she would still be in my life.”

Charles gives a smirking hum. “True enough.” Placing a quick, chaste kiss on Erik’s lips, Charles starts to pull out of his hold. “Now c’mon, I would like to shower before we go, and I’m getting hungry.”

Erik holds onto him fast. “Just a minute,” he requests, before drawing Charles into a longer but still fairly chaste kiss. He pulls out of it slowly, but not far, lightly running his nose along Charles’. “Good morning, liebling,” he murmurs.

Briefly resting their foreheads together, Charles murmurs back with a small, content smile, “I love when you call me that.”

“I love you,” Erik says, as if in retort, making Charles laugh as they pull back apart.

“I love you too, darling,” he says with utter sincerity, which Erik smiles softly at. “Now come on, before she threatens to throw buckets of cold water at us.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if y'all are interested in more; I really loved working with this 'verse, and I already have some extra bits that didn't make it in that could be included in either a bonus epilogue or a whole additional fic. Tell me your thoughts, folx! <3


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